I’m sick of writing about stars
and girls who will never be as good as I try to make them sound

I’ve exhausted my love for sappy cliches
and dumb metaphors that probably don’t make sense to anyone but me

she was filled with galaxies
she had constellations inside of her
she planted flowers in my lungs

I can’t breathe
I can’t breathe
I can’t breathe
I can’t-

****
I can’t even remember what she looks like anymore..

I’m all closed lips
didn’t know how to say I love you without
sounding like all the people that never meant it the first time

I know you didn’t mean it the last time
come back
you left your roses in my chest
their thorns ripping holes in my lungs

this is not the place for flowers

I can’t breathe
I can’t breathe
I can’t breathe
I can’t…

I miss you