if i gave you pretty enough words. could you paint a picture of us that works. an emphasis on function rather than design. aren't you tired cause i will carry you
on a broken back
and blown out knees
i have been where you are for a while. aren't you tired of being weak?
such rage that you could scream. all the stars right out of the sky
and destroy the prettiest starry night. every evening that i die. i am exhumed just a little less human and a lot more bitter and cold. i am exhumed. just a little less human. a lot more bitter and cold. after all these images of pain
have cut right through you
i will kiss every scar
and weep you are not alone. then i'll show you that place in my chest where my heart still tries to beat
it sets us apart. aren't you tired of being weak?
such rage that you could scream. all the stars right out of the sky
and destroy the prettiest starry night. every evening that i die