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I want to be kissed in an art gallery

And cross streets without looking both ways,

Because we’re too busy,

Giving each other our own green lights.

(The sun was shining, and your smile was beautiful)

I smoke cigarettes as a metaphor

But I am not a book

Or exceptionally skinny

It still makes me feel romantic

I screamed at the top of a mountain,

And fell into my grave

All without leaving my bed.

I vow not to be a parent that looks the other way

And that punishes the symptoms

Of a sickness

Its hard not feel broken

When I can hear the rattling of my shattered insides

Its been a year since you died

I’m so sorry.

I used to draw.

I used to think beautifully.

I miss who I used to be, before I found myself

I have a whole world in my head

I am so much

and

I can’t wait to share it with someone

I’m not done living,

I have so much left to experience.

And I must find beauty in my distortions

If I’m ever going to make it out of here

-Taylor.

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