im sorry im sorry i fucked up so bad by making this
play this song at my funeral
happy early birthday i love ya
I’ve adapted the habit of running my fingers through my hair,
Biting my lip was just an addition to my addiction.
I lock my own hands together when that song comes on the radio
And made a clear point not to look at the rain as it punched me in the face and cried against the window I stare out of,
Connecting your name to the stars.
I’ve done the kind of drugs that keep me outside of my head
That open the door to my quietest places
At 4 AM when I am shaking and vulnerable,
They pick me up and dust the doubts off of my jeans.
Being without them wasn’t terrible,
Being behind my own eyes was just
I’ve never injected anything like you inside of my veins.
You have crawled inside of my skin and planted memories of places
We’ve never been, and
Things we’ve never seen
I can almost taste your lips when I see the sun set.
And when I see vines twist themselves over abandoned houses like
Needles have always scared me,
So, If I was broken and bleeding,
I would choose you over morphine.