we've all got broken
strings but we try our best not to think about those
kinds of things.
i find myself thinking about how damn dark and swampy your eyes get in november and june. i find myself thinking about how the hottest starts are always white and blue.
i wonder about love sometimes and the bodies i've seen it come in. how when we hit the light we never stay for long. maybe our bodies weren't built for this.
but i'll never be sorry for all the feelings that i bear in all the places they cannot fit. sometimes when i listen carefully i think i hear you singing. maybe it's just the sound of the wind hitting our broken strings.
but this world is a very lonely place if you never learn how to love broken things.
i find myself thinking about how damn dark and swampy your eyes get in november and june. i find myself thinking about how the hottest starts are always white and blue.
i wonder about love sometimes and the bodies i've seen it come in. how when we hit the light we never stay for long. maybe our bodies weren't built for this.
but i'll never be sorry for all the feelings that i bear in all the places they cannot fit. sometimes when i listen carefully i think i hear you singing. maybe it's just the sound of the wind hitting our broken strings.
but this world is a very lonely place if you never learn how to love broken things.
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