When you love someone,
it isn't always pretty.
Sometimes it's two people, full
speed ahead and once the wreckage is left,
You can say "I loved this hard."
I still look at our wreckage and
think of all who were involved.
You think there were no casualties,
no victims but yourself.
I was a casualty and all the victims and bystanders
of my love for you
would call me crazy for picking at the shattered glass windows.
The car is totaled.
There is absolutely no chance of it running again,
and like a fool,
I think sitting in front of the wheel
is gonna make it run again.
Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 11:45 PM UTC
When you love someone,
it isn't always pretty.
Sometimes it's two people, full
speed ahead and once the wreckage is left,
You can say "I loved this hard."
I still look at our wreckage and
think of all who were involved.
You think there were no casualties,
no victims but yourself.
I was a casualty and all the victims and bystanders
of my love for you
would call me crazy for picking at the shattered glass windows.
The car is totaled.
There is absolutely no chance of it running again,
and like a fool,
I think sitting in front of the wheel
is gonna make it run again.
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