It seems like everything I touch, I destroy.
I touched your car, I broke the glove box.
I held your mom's favorite coffee cup and watched it shatter to the ground.
I never had a pair of headphones work for longer than a few weeks.
I scratched up your favorite CD.
The crack of your phone was by my doing.

*You let me hold your heart and since that day it's been in a thousand little pieces, and even the apologies won't heal the scratches.
Even your black coffee isn't strong enough to remove the taste from my lips.