You can be the river flowing down my skin,
but how do I begin to tread waters that I have once drowned in before?
You make sinking feel like a dance with the sea.
Waves do not always come before the breakdown,
but somewhere there is a storm
and my heart is always sighing at me.
Puddles,
puddles of ash.
Dear love, I am burning on the inside,
and I have grown so used to the sting.
You can be the river flowing down my skin.
You can be the river flowing down my skin.
May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 4:16 PM UTC
You can be the river flowing down my skin,
but how do I begin to tread waters that I have once drowned in before?
You make sinking feel like a dance with the sea.
Waves do not always come before the breakdown,
but somewhere there is a storm
and my heart is always sighing at me.
Puddles,
puddles of ash.
Dear love, I am burning on the inside,
and I have grown so used to the sting.
You can be the river flowing down my skin.
You can be the river flowing down my skin.
