across the river made up of particles and whatnot is where my soul belongs it exasperates me that the fish can easily go and see my love with a simple flip of their fin can watch my love i grew up believing no one would ever fall in love with me that i’d be forever lonely like the moon wasn’t something my love had built for me in their bedroom sitting at their desk pondering which piece fixates itself to which piece so my broken heart strings bled the color blue it was blue because the river was blue and so were my feelings but it was also blue because it was cold outside and i loved the way that my love’s lips turned a slightly blue color in the cold and it was blue because that was the color of their eyes i tried to empty myself of all my emotions dont tell me that a defective life is something a therapist can fix and that a couple pills a day could cure because there is no way for it to transit itself into something beautiful.