i’m made of sidewalk cracks and moments i should’ve taken i’m made of broken rings and the wrong girls i put my trust in. because i didn’t know what love was until i kissed a girl made of thorns and i didn’t know what happiness was until fear started sleeping without locking the door. i’m no where near what the world makes me out to be what it expects from me and maybe that’s okay. i’m made of ****** coffee and the constant pressure of being something else i'm made of holes in the foundation and girls that kiss me just to watch me melt. because i didn't know what lust was until i touched skin made of broken glass and i didn't know what hope was until i fell a little too fast. my story ends before it even starts because forever is only real if you look like art but i look like broken promises in an empty hallway and maybe that's okay.
and strange what desire will make foolish people do