I don't know what pieces of me want you.
It's lucky for you, honestly  
if I knew where they were hiding
I wouldn't think twice about ripping them out of me.
I would leave gapping holes in my chest,
I would abandon my mind for the sound of static on repeat,
I would swallow combustibles,
and paint my insides on the walls of my bedroom
if it meant I'd be able to want happiness for
myself
more than I want it for you.