i told you my mom said no before i even asked her
though it wasn't because i didn't want to go
i just knew asking wouldn't change a **** thing
and my chest can't take the water today

black lipstick in my room
i wear it for the mirror and i hope she likes it
i don't know how to wear eyeliner
but i still wish you could see how it brings out the sin in my eyes
and my eyes wish they could see your sins tonight

i'll read about them in grey conversations
as your contact photo smiles at me
that smile is too small to be my whole world
but i'm afraid if i lose it, the earth might stop turning

sometimes the earth feels no bigger than my bedroom
and sometimes i can hear every mile outside my window
like the booming music of a party i wasn't invited to

my walls are as bare as my journal
since my mom broke in and saw her worst fears in ink
i don't have any pictures of you because they would be stolen
along with the things i forced myself to stop caring about
as a self defence mechanism

i can't love you in this house
but i can't leave
and when i do the memories will cling to me
like cobwebs in a place that hasn't been loved for too long

i wonder if i'll ever be able to shake these thoughts from my head