Once upon a time a girl wore a dark dress printed with red roses and it fit her quite well
But a boy tore it off her when she was under his spell
She felt her heart break when he kissed her up against the wall
When she realized it wasn't her dress but his arms that made her feel so small

my happiness is a scale
and my heart is so heavy

i've never thought possible why i can feel so many different things at once
until i watched the colors drip from the sunset

my heart speaks of warm hands and ephemeral affairs
but what i truly long for is not another fleeting shadow pressed up against the bookcase
but for someone to speak graciously to me
not with the dalliance of their moving hands
or even their lips;
but with their words

i read that in the darkest hour
flowers are most redolent
but maybe that is an illusion
by the blindfold of the night
after all,
it's been known to captured me, too

the sky comes forward
in soft whispers
but fades before i have a chance to respond
i think i may just be lost
in this firmament

a voice in the background told us to listen
but we didn't care
we kissed
i remember you told me the first time you saw me you wanted to run up and kiss me
but that was a different time
different words
you pulled off my dress
"you're so hot, god, you're so hot."
but i didn't hear you say that then
i heard you call me beautiful
then you ripped my tights and suddenly i was getting up off the floor using my hand to wipe away what you thought you wanted off my lips
silence
and then laughing
there weren't stars that night because they were in our eyes
"wait", you said
and then kissed me good-night
good-bye, i mean, you kissed me good-bye
then came the "i'm sorry"
the "i'm sorry for what i made you do to me"
"i'm sorry for never treating you like a human being"
"i'm so so sorry"

You wouldn't stop saying it just like the way you wouldn't stop kissing me

I'm sorry, too, I said.
I'm sorry that all of me was never enough.

Everything seems to be blooming
As I wilt
The sun is bright and warm
As I'm shivering in the dark

It's too late for any revival
It's winter in my heart

I'm as dead as the leaves that the sun and snow left behind
The sun doesn't shine on me

tomorrow, loving promises are forgotten
taking these moments in our hands and burning them like paper

i heard the sound of a storm that hasn't happened yet


broke women and their wild lovers
lost men and their good souls
maybe home is really the space between two holding hands

oh, but by the end of the evening your spirit will die,
your eyelids will become restless,
and you'll steer straight into the edge of sin
you'll be bitter and you'll blame the dawn and the gold bodies of people bound by the same impossible struggles

sometimes i think i hear my name being called at night
but then i realize its only the trains passing by and i have to remind them that i still have a few years left in this city