they're nice boys
don't mean me any harm
I'm probably the not nice one
offering something I never intend to give
something I don't even think I have
maybe they know I don't have it
see the emptiness in my eyes
hear it in my voice
maybe we're both hoping we can find it
somewhere in there
help me dig

I kiss lips
and lips
and lips
I touch bodies
and bodies
and bodies
and I'm still empty
even you couldn't fill me

I must be self service

both of them
have the same tattoo

it's not that I like my boys
broken
but rather men who know
that they can break
and put themselves back together again

There are days
it feels like
my life
is just a string of apologies

He likes to do things that scare him.

Like me for instance.

Floating in and swimming out
begging the tide to do its thing
afraid it just might

I think I finally understand
walls