you're all i hear about these days and i think i once coughed my way out of telling someone i loved them. My body wont stop shivering and these house fixtures keep staring at me like they know my secrets and all my broken promises to myself. Its okay though, because some day i will stop singing songs and writing ****** poetry for the people who have wronged me. I'll learn the difference from real and fake and right and wrong, maybe i'll even finally be able to sleep again.