I pray you burn the wood you carved us into, because I'm tired of fighting this fire alone.
You've roasted our love away, carving us into a childhood bunk bed and praying we stay past our adolescent phase.
I want to kiss you under our initials, show you how heated I can get under your gaze, smolder the letters of my name because I don't belong on bunk beds.
I belong in backseats, and kissing behind your mothers back when she's making us dinner.
I belong as a secret, I belong on letters you were never suppose to send.
Lick the envelopes with love you aren't suppose to have for me, tell your mother it's a platonic relationship and your father I was the kind of girl you'd marry.
I don't belong on bunk beds, so don't put me above your head.
Feb 26, 2014
Feb 26, 2014 at 6:09 PM UTC
I pray you burn the wood you carved us into, because I'm tired of fighting this fire alone.
You've roasted our love away, carving us into a childhood bunk bed and praying we stay past our adolescent phase.
I want to kiss you under our initials, show you how heated I can get under your gaze, smolder the letters of my name because I don't belong on bunk beds.
I belong in backseats, and kissing behind your mothers back when she's making us dinner.
I belong as a secret, I belong on letters you were never suppose to send.
Lick the envelopes with love you aren't suppose to have for me, tell your mother it's a platonic relationship and your father I was the kind of girl you'd marry.
I don't belong on bunk beds, so don't put me above your head.
