I'll never subscribe to the ills of modern romance.
The intrinsic notion that if it isn't perfect, it stands no chance.
There is no such thing as making it work anymore,
And god forbid its a slight chore
To take a chance and make it work.
**** it
**** her
**** me
There's plenty more fish at sea
But those are words I don't mean
Syllables spilling out of my teeth
Because I'm hurt and angry
Hurt by you
Angry at me
All the words I tied in knots to craft a frame that adorns your divine face.
And I hate myself because I find myself in a new faith
A new religion
Like that Lana Del Rey song
The one you told me to listen to
Though my favorite is Honeymoon
I don't know if this a catharsis
But I had to get these ******* words
Out of my skull
They gnaw at my brain and my bone
And don't let me sleep at night
They're akin to the dimmest street light
At your window
A speck in an otherwise ebony sky
That drone on the lid of your eyes
I just want peace of mind
And you to be mine