i dont know if i was ever intended to fall for the boy with carpet burn eyes and a short circuit smile
if something in me decided that your soul and my soul were encased in the same shrine to whatever pain we dedicate ourselves to today
if i am supposed to hang off of you like paint peeling from the nails of a girl with too many words left stirring in the bottom of her drink
i cannot be one of thousands it has never been my scene
independence means leaving before the rings turn to shackles turn to boats sailing toward your latest hope of peace
i have left my heart open and you climbed in through the window
desperately demanding that breaking and entering implies that there was something in me left to be broken by you