We ache so much,
Our hearts look like paper snowflakes,
Worn as badges on our sleeves,
They scream—
We are still beating.
You've got a laugh like a helium balloon filled with too much air;
I've got a smile made out of paper mâché.
We walk a tightrope just to meet in the middle.
We're not acrobats,
But we want to believe that
Falling together is better than standing on solid ground alone.
You promised you'd hold me until the lights went out,
But sweetheart, it's been dark for so long,
We've created our own spark,
From the warmth of our breath
And the steady rise and fall of our chests as one.
We may break each other's hearts,
But we stay and pick up the pieces,
And though we have cracks,
We'll fill them with gold—
I swear, they'll write about us one day,
Long after we've forgotten
The wind rattling the glass,
The kettle boiling over.
Sep 15, 2015
Sep 15, 2015 at 10:59 PM UTC
We ache so much,
Our hearts look like paper snowflakes,
Worn as badges on our sleeves,
They scream—
We are still beating.
You've got a laugh like a helium balloon filled with too much air;
I've got a smile made out of paper mâché.
We walk a tightrope just to meet in the middle.
We're not acrobats,
But we want to believe that
Falling together is better than standing on solid ground alone.
You promised you'd hold me until the lights went out,
But sweetheart, it's been dark for so long,
We've created our own spark,
From the warmth of our breath
And the steady rise and fall of our chests as one.
We may break each other's hearts,
But we stay and pick up the pieces,
And though we have cracks,
We'll fill them with gold—
I swear, they'll write about us one day,
Long after we've forgotten
The wind rattling the glass,
The kettle boiling over.
Request permission to use this poem