Spinning 'round us 'till the end,
As if Earth is the center of the universe,
Always watching the mess we've made,
Hearing my cracking voice, ending the verse.

Sometimes I see it from my window,
"Wrong side of the house," I whisper,
While silver light is broken by willow,
Which only stands there and it's leaves whimper.

This massive body on the night sky,
So bright, but not from its own shine,
Reminds me I have to try,
'Cause my life is not defined.

and i wish i could slit my wrists and
write about you in the note
to tell the entire world about
the monster you are.
you wouldn't even be able
to argue because it would be
your word against a
dead girl's --
but you're not worth it.
god, you've never been worth it

i wish i could go back to the night where
i decided to settle for you
and knock some sense into myself
snakes shouldn't lie with
doves. they swallow them whole.
i know that now
i wish i knew it then

i'm done thinking about you
in waves of cuddly, familiar nostalgia
i'm done thinking about you
and wishing i could go back
i never want to go back
it wasn't cuddly when you pushed me
into the corner and slapped me across
the face like
you were my mother
(familiar, but not cuddly --
you stopped being cuddly
when you realized i would
fight back)

you're funny because you love
to throw the blame and shame
at me for starting fights
when i never notice
you come around unless
i say something incriminating
you're absent unless you're
defending yoruself

I wish people worked like clocks
They can be tall
Short
Loud
Quiet
They can be digital
They can be old-fashioned
They can be dressed up
Or even a little bare
And when they break
You can tell
And you can fix them
And make them all better