I can’t imagine
Myself being tender.
I just feel like a stranger
8pm Thursday
What died in me
What woke up?
My heart my heart
I used to sing to you
I used to fill your head with custard thoughts and whipped cream cherries
We were a hot fudge Sunday banana spilt
Toothe ache
I begged you for just one day
I begged you for a watch that didn’t work our very first date
And even when we fixed it that Halloween
It ticked in a costume
Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 3:58 AM UTC
I can’t imagine
Myself being tender.
I just feel like a stranger
8pm Thursday
What died in me
What woke up?
My heart my heart
I used to sing to you
I used to fill your head with custard thoughts and whipped cream cherries
We were a hot fudge Sunday banana spilt
Toothe ache
I begged you for just one day
I begged you for a watch that didn’t work our very first date
And even when we fixed it that Halloween
It ticked in a costume
