I don't know the best way to say this

the thing about people is that we are all our own galaxies and we tend to fall in love with the constellations that feel most like home.
but every backyard garden I plant always seems to die before it blooms

an old rocking chair in a stuffing yellow attic is what I use to call home
I can still remember the lullabies and the bunnies on the wall
home left me the day fire lined the walls
swallowing the bunnies and trapping me whole
I couldn't get out
I couldn't get out
my bed was the ocean
and I was the tsunami
swallowing your home
and I swallowed that fear
and now the ghosts whisper my name
as they pull the juniper berries off their bush and lay them under your pillow
this is so you will have believed that you were the one to **** sleep
you'll dream of holding a knife dripping with sand
and you'll never feel home again

Whenever you're sad,
just remember that the sun still can't get rid of his heartburn;

and like the animals we are
we continue to breath and breed the madness we've created.

Can't you see?
No matter how sad you are,
even if the sadness is so strong
that you could've sworn the tide stopped coming years ago,
the Earth will still spin on
and spin on
and spin on
and spin on
as the sun begs for help,
we'll keep our oceans to ourselves,
and spin on
and spin on
and spin on

and as the sun falls to your knees,
you'll tell how he'll never be able to touch our seas;
and as he begs and pleas,
you'll tell him:
"you're just another fish in the sea
but I guess you wouldn't know that, would you?"

as he dies at your feet,
you'll carry your sadness to his place;
but this time
you'll stay cool and white,
you'll stay apart of the night.

I'm tired of my heart being a yoyo.
I've tried to tell you that you're my ventilator,
but you're never here.
I'm the type of lover that wants to leave everything else behind,
maybe it's because I'm a sucker for a good sunset.
I just want to live somnolently,
I want to retrace the veins that map your wrist.
I want you to be here.

Underneath the weeds in her herb garden.
In between every dying star.
Running through the veins of the leaves within all the trees.
Behind every sleepy eye not wanting to say goodbye.
In the air between their joined hands.
Within every thundercloud and cool rain droplets.
Twisting through the quiet creek tracing the woods.
Throughout his aching fingertips.
In the gaps between their bones.