notes caught inside
opened from time to time
to beguile passerby's
I bet it would go well
with a ballerina figurine.

someone once told me
pain is like water;
you need a little
to know you're alive,
but too much
will drown you.
and now I think
isn't it funny
how the things we do
to feel alive
are the things
that can **** us?
i suppose
it's because
we just want to feel
**something

“You’re not mine,” I tell myself—everyday
Then you put a deep kiss on my lips
“You’re not mine,” I repeat myself
Then you spoon me like a blanket
“You’re not mine,” my voice shakes
Then you brush my hair gently and smile
“You’re not mine,” my eyes are wet
Then you speak my name like it was made from your voice
And my mind went blank—my heart forgot to beat
But it whispered softly, “I’m yours”

do you know why
I'd be the biggest fool
if I ever let you slip away?
cause you're that person
who can make the starlight
dances on your skin
even in the darkest night