He told me that heading north in the late summer at seven in the evening was the prettiest time of day

now every time the clock reads seven, I don't think the same way

He told me you fall in love with the city when you tear it apart
so he holds my hand in his glove and teaches me the art
Of how to ruin the beauty in everything
He's putting his fingerprints on every street sign and my name in every swear
so I fall asleep again outside of Logan Square
during the summer cicadas latched onto the heat in the air
but I wouldn't want to be anywhere
but here

I am hiding in the day, I find peace in the disarray
From lying on a queen sized mattress someone threw away
With a sheet I found in my parents basement
I'm wringing the clothe and preserving the lines
So I remember where I was the night I wanted to die
My head is still numb from carrying the weight
My knuckles still white from gripping the gate
So bury me deep, somewhere in the mattress and sheets
and trace me love letters through the tar in the streets
Tomorrow I will watch dusk settle from under the overpass
while I collect dead dandelions and broken glass
the prettiest things I know I **** well deserve
And I spent all summer living with the curtains drawn
so he couldn't see in
And when I finally opened them, I had forgotten how the sun felt on my skin
Happy to feel the warmth I left pass me by my whole life
It took me until autumn to realize how good it felt to feel alive
But
It's too late
Its seven in the evening
And if I think too loud, he will close the curtains again

Twirling the jagged glass between my fingertips, focusing my reflection in the frame
If you knew the things I did to cope, the things I did to feel sane
It would **** you faster than it could ever **** me