I'd rather listen to the echoes of lyrics than the broken beats of my heart.
Limitless nights spent listening to harmonies are sweeter than thinking about a left-heavy mattress. My ear-buds fit comfortably, filling my head with sound, better replacements than a hand that no longer fits.
The chords carry me places where memories carve out pieces of me and hang them on the wall. The jagged edges drip with the feelings I couldn't express, and showed the tattoos of those that I did. They weren't understood, just ignored. But the lyrics, the sound, the energy, they take out the nails from the shredded parts of me, they sew up the wounds he gave me till the rushing stream stops and I can move, the pain lessens, with every song
May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 10:57 PM UTC
I'd rather listen to the echoes of lyrics than the broken beats of my heart.
Limitless nights spent listening to harmonies are sweeter than thinking about a left-heavy mattress. My ear-buds fit comfortably, filling my head with sound, better replacements than a hand that no longer fits.
The chords carry me places where memories carve out pieces of me and hang them on the wall. The jagged edges drip with the feelings I couldn't express, and showed the tattoos of those that I did. They weren't understood, just ignored. But the lyrics, the sound, the energy, they take out the nails from the shredded parts of me, they sew up the wounds he gave me till the rushing stream stops and I can move, the pain lessens, with every song
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