There is something wrong about
The way i breathe
The way my lungs fill
The way the air leaves
There is something wrong about
The way we kiss
The way your eyes roll
The way i choke on this
The atmosphere tastes sour
Like a papercut
and
The taste on your tongue
Isn’t foreign
But that doesn’t mean it’s welcome
There is something heavy about
The way you’re numb
The way you’re ******
So you can be with someone
last cold friday
she confessed
that she
only likes me
when she's high
just like i guessed
so we broke up
broke apart
broken hearts
scattered parts
from something like
my skull