Happy.
Happy.
I’m so incredibly happy.
Happy in the light of a burning room
while my tequila spins me around like my lover, like my muse.
Happy when I sing, happy when I walk,
happy when there’s nothing to ignore,
happy when the only thing kissing my cheeks
is the marble lips of the bathroom floor.
I’m so happy when I cry, I’m so happy I could die.
My baby, my heart and my mind,
I’m so happy when you’re happier in her arms than mine.

Happy.
Happy.
I’m so incredibly happy.
So incredibly happy, it’s so incredibly sad.
The best I can find is at the bottom of a bottle,
tasting the bitter sting of everything we had.

i think missing someone hurts the most
when you have nothing to hold onto besides their memories
because now i’m stuck smelling the cigarette smoke on my own coat
and you’ll have to do without my lipstick print on your coffee cups

i don’t know how much gin and smoke
i vomited up on the bedroom floor last night
just trying to force you out of my chest,
but you’re still here and now my stomach just feels raw

it feels worse to drink this feeling down because you tasted so good mixed with gin and the wasted words on my tongue.
so i tried cigarettes, hoping that i’d breathe you out of my lungs with nicotine and smoke held tight for too long but no, all i have now is a headache and a dry mouth.
i tried to ******* out of my system with what’s his name from what’s his place and maybe for 10 small seconds, part of you was sweated out on my skin but when i laid back down i saw your face in the cracked ceilings.

so i went outside and i found a park
and i laid down there, face to the ground.
i thought if my eyes shut tight enough i wouldn’t see your shape in the sky and i thought if my music was turned up loud enough that i wouldn’t hear your footsteps as i asked myself to ask you to stay.
but i feel your hands in the breeze and how am i supposed to move past you when i can taste you in the air when i breathe?

so, my brightest star, how do you feel now?
do you feel as if you may now find what you want?
because i told you there was better and i told you there was more but i never thought you’d take your things to try and find it and all i could do was watch you go.
and maybe it’s just me and maybe i am the only one who remembers being content in small spaces,
but i said i’d love you through the lake of fire so how’s the weather in heaven? ‘cause i’m burning up in here.

Fear is not hiding beneath your covers
from the monsters that lurk behind closed doors.

Fear is not police sirens churning the liquor
in the pit of your stomach.

Fear is not the look on your mother's face
when she realizes she's lost control.

Fear is not fumbling for your wallet
as a mask holds a gun to your head.

Fear is not staring down a grey wolf at a 15 foot radius,
tasting the metal on your tongue
as it seaps from the back of your throat.

Fear is not the skies opening and golden majesty
seaping through only to leave you behind.

Fear is not the devil holding you within the claws of his grip.

Fear is losing the memory of your hand against my cheek and a ****** drip of the fact that you continue to exist, with or without me.