If God made anything better, he kept it for himself
So much perfect sadness it’s beyond belief
All from the little things stemmed from grief
Like quiet, windy evenings that end too fast
Or another closet full of sleeping skeletons
I’ve been hoping someone loves you
In all the ways I couldn’t
Red stone earrings,
Long drawn locks
that go way past your eyes
We always talk before dawn,
sitting there for ages
talking about that boy
who was getting onto you
Your lips are always too cold
and in this light,
everything seems to be alright
Maybe I keep waiting like
you could change my mind
All my friends keep saying
that I’m way too good to you
I’m not happy and you know it
and you still don’t even try
All my friends keep saying that I’m way too good to you, but my heart is so invested I don’t want to face the truth
Ran and ran again to the spot we used to go to but everything is still as unperfect. There are no lights this time, no recordings of all your perfect practices and no sun to light up your face. Ran and ran again to the spot we used to call ours until the hours in the day stretched out and all that was left was your breathing next to mine. The people that walk past look my way as if they noticed you weren’t here with me anymore… it’s like everyone but me can walk away. Ran and ran again to the spot you used to cry at for weeks because your mother couldn’t get out of bed like she used to. When I leave this time, the place isn’t littered with your cigarettes and prayer time tears. Everything here feels so cold. Everything in me feels so, so cold. Don’t want to let you down but I’m hell bound. Though this is all for you, don’t want to hide the truth…..
A little less than eighteen candles
to call it a night between us and
A little more of you and I,
until someone breaks
A little less of my brain daydreaming
A little more of your words wrapping
themselves too tightly around me
just to make me go breathless
when we are less than what I want us to be
Nothing here can really be alright
some of my friends only start to come around
when I’m halfway dead and wasted in bed,
acting as if I’m not what God made
I’ve heard your words somewhere before
like a movie spinning in my head
like a song you play just to end it
on a bad note
The washed colour of your lips, my complete breathlessness, music in the background but nothing sounds quite like your voice perfectly next to me…….. you should stay as long as you need
How inconvenient to feel like you have a heart of stone in times like these even when your reckless light is spilling over me so warmly