Hearts are something like sweatshirts. When you leave them in someone else’s home for too long, it’s not completely yours anymore.

" I wonder if he can taste your name at the tip of my tongue "
- Aztec

she counted him
As one of her flaws.

You used to love me
But I never used to love
Who I used to be

I don't know how it has gotten to this point
That I don't trust myself when it comes to love
I don't know what I want and I attach myself so readily
More readily than I want to let go, even if it is not right for me
Even if they give me an open invitation to stay or go
*Why do I feel the urge to stay even if my heart says run away?

night's skirling strong winds
were more subdued before
the morn's dawning light