I love listening to peoples heart beats in the street
through cold cotton shirts
and tears streaming down their collars around their ribs like hugs they couldn't find.
Her home made rain pulling her clothes like weights to the groun
amplifying the cracked rhythm of a princess who lost her crown.
trying to take it back
take back the broken glass under the streetlights
Sharpie notes on her arm to remind her of a love she has never know
Flirting with death like some yellow paint lines will keep her safe
from all the broken hearts she'll have
all the nights alone hiding in the dark so she doesn't get hurt
all the days when she is her worst enemy.
She is like a lighter pushed up to a jar of kerosene
Waiting to burn up the photograph of her life.
Singing black love poems and drinking
Red wine like its enough to warm up her blue blood.
She likes to hold her breathe to remind herself that she is still in love with life.
A life lived with seven billion other people that are nothing but characters on a broken window.
The crowd of hollow dreams that are still full enough to rip their seams.
A menagerie of marionet bones getting pulled through life waiting to be brave enough to break their strings
Or waiting for their knight in shining jeans and cardigans to rescue them from real life.
Tell them that it isnt always a constant night of long roads with too many houses and too few homes.
listening to that girls heartbeat like it will never flat line
Cause life needs rain to grow and nobody needs a crown to be worth a kingdom.
And broken glass takes beautiful photos
Sharpie is just temporary cause
She should already know that Ill tell her I love her every day
double yellow lines are there to keep her safe from going the wrong direction
She doesnt need photographs to prove she has a life worth living
She sings black love poems because she doesnt like to romanticize romance
She is more then a little lighter fluid
she is a firework that explodes with nothing more and nothing less the beauty