She asked me if I ever wrote about us
I thought, there's nothing poetic about her being on some ho shit
I cracked open my ribs to present her my heart...
She just cracked a smile as she broke it
She reopened every scar I carried on my chest
And threw away the thread I use to sew it
She said I need to try to forgive as well as forget
But the past paints our future so hopeless
So if she ever asks me again if I ever wrote about us...
Well I could just tell her that I wrote this