pull out the knife, from where you slid it in my side. Let the blood, rich and rosy, drench your hands, a reminder, a memento to the times we passed untainted, warm in the sun. Avert your eyes, from my prostrate pain, out of sight, you can raise your head, pretending the role you played didn’t bring me down.
two tickets to barcelona sants I told you I missed my flight
my bus broke down halfway into London and tonight i'm crashing on someone's boyfriend's couch it's a quarter to three and all I hear is arctic monkeys inside a funeral hall where I wore black lace like an unburnt witch and resurrection like a diamond ring and I feasted on the thought of how close I was to being whole again
because you thought I'd die without you but life is more than just a memory of you
if you show me your soul hidden deep inside I will admire it. show me the worst parts, the broken pieces... so I will know where to start. show me the most damaged parts and I will show you they are still lovable, unique in all the world unduplacated and more valuable than gold.
Most every person is a finger print, unduplicated, the unexplained magic of a bond seemingly to the soal burns deep into a mind and generates memories and feelings that never subside