If I'm being honest, I've been trying to hold onto you in my head, for reasons I'm not so sure of.
I think I'm scared I'll stop feeling if I don't grasp onto that little shred of pain anymore.
How ignorant is that?
Believing agony is what makes you who you are,
well you haven't been where I have,
you haven't walked the same path,
held the same heart.
Honey blood and sugar scars are hard to separate from beautiful eyes and butterflies, it's like art.
My heart and mind didn't get off to a good start,
they always speak in tongue ties and lullabies,
sing me to bed each night, I get confused every time and I wish they'd just restart.
I just want to feel alive again,
but I always end up picking my own self apart.
