My heart is like an old butterfly net
That has a gaping hole torn into it;
What it catches flutters at its leisure
And leaves surely with time, or with the wind,
Leaving my heart empty and I'm sorry
That I cannot keep the bubbly-ness here.
I've been broken; I try but I'm a fool,
Holding on to something I've never held.
Mar 15, 2015
Mar 15, 2015 at 11:14 PM UTC
My heart is like an old butterfly net
That has a gaping hole torn into it;
What it catches flutters at its leisure
And leaves surely with time, or with the wind,
Leaving my heart empty and I'm sorry
That I cannot keep the bubbly-ness here.
I've been broken; I try but I'm a fool,
Holding on to something I've never held.
