We get bones out of death
And death out of love
We decide that we will never be enough

I ask myself if it will ever be
If just breathing will be hard for me
Because sometimes a hot shower
Feels like a devour

It feels like the only hug I've gotten in years
Because I never allowed anyone to see me in tears
And I've realised that this life
This life

Tastes like Sunday morning, realising that the next day is a chance for things to crumble
And looks like a fumble
With a noose or a handgun
And wanting to run
Away from everything that ever caused you grief.

Tick tock, I feel my time running out
And it feels like all I've ever dreamt about
Was happiness to be kept in the back of my pocket
And to never be the girl who ruined it.

All my life I have been that girl
And maybe that is my place in this world
To be another creature, cast away in the streets
A person, uncaring towards whether she bleeds.

Because dying is not a new feeling to her.