on the cold summer grass, will you be my breath
on these midnight hills, will you be the last
of the falling leaves in my hollow chest
where butterflies are too scared to rest
play the light out of the day that we’re just trying to pass
cables scattered on floors, forgotten by a neck
you had faith in a friend, a possessive mess
can i trust you enough to understand what we have

ooooh is this beauty
ooooh will you hear my pleas
with doubt i’ll cross my heart and drown myself
not in bottles, but in bruising wrists, and ruined skin

a friend in tools for tally marks, and keep forgetting the rest
they don’t call anymore, how can i know you won’t be next
the more comfortable i get, i learn my father’s disrespect
there’s a way for me to fix this with only one dead

do i walk down fieldgate towards the art hall taking the long way around to sit, and hear the repercussions of a discussion that shouldn’t involve me, where i’ve done nothing except not give in to her borderline sociopathic obsessive tendencies. i wouldn’t carve my flesh out for this of all things as much as some may wish that i do, because at least i treat my friends like they matter. when i take the 26 west down i’m not spending it thinking about myself, because i care about more than the person i care the most about. life is about love in any form you can get it, it’s about anything you can value enough to keep you going. i can see that she’s struggling to get that from anyone so she’s latched onto you, with emails and document chat histories, insulting you by insulting me, criticizing you for living your life the way you want to. i’m so glad it doesn’t mean anything to you. but i’m scared of the fact that it did at some point. cause everything i claim to control controls me more than you could ever guess, and i’ve tried and i’ve tried and i’ve bled and i’ve bled and eventually i’ll find it in me to fly further than my fear of death, to avoid giving you less than i have in the past. but if all goes to plan i’ll be gone before you can criticize my acts, and you’ll be left again to deal with the pain of death as if overcoming my fear of it would only work to confirm yours.

my flower that doesn’t exist
your tower as i try not to tip with no defence

ooooooh do you see me
ooooooh are we at risk, your mother’s pleas
with doubt i’ll cross my fingers writing these lines
hoping they hold your heart tight enough to make you stay
for the memories you know that we made