And I Don't Know What To Do, Cuz I'll Never Be With You.
I can't believe I did it again.
The heart pinned to my sleeve is broken, clumsily held together with string and a band aid, Frankenstein's monster. I am a monster.
Band aids don't fix the kind of hurt twisting my throat, making it so I can't breathe, and forcing water from my eyes, drowning my breath.
Eyes, they're the windows to the soul. If you looked in them, would you know, realization like a vise?
You're happy. That's good. You heart beats strongly, overshadowing mine.
I'm not happy, but that's okay. Love means wanting the best. I watch you spin around with her and it's killing me, crumpling me, a paper doll.
Ice in my lungs, it crystalizes. I'm not beautiful. You lied.
Whispered words that I thought were mine. You tell them to her, slipping off your tongue easily and sweetly, acid in my veins.
Intoxicating. That's what you are. I'm intoxicated, and there's no coming down. There's no cups of coffee to stave off the effects of my drunken state, drunk off your eyes, staggering and dumb.
You smile at her like she's the world, and it twists me. I must look like a pretzel, beyond recognition.
I knew when I fell for you that you would choose her, but when you did, it still choked me, smoke in my lungs.
And you don't know, completely oblivious, stars twinkling beautifully without a thought, mesmerizing.
It's okay. You've got her and I'm dying, and you're happy.
It seems fair trade, the balances perfect.
Words that I spit are small, insignificant. I'm a message in a bottle, fighting for room.
All I can do is say goodbye, bidding farewell to my heart.
Summer nights and warmth are gone.
The heart pinned to my sleeve is broken, clumsily held together with string and a band aid, Frankenstein's monster. I am a monster.
Band aids don't fix the kind of hurt twisting my throat, making it so I can't breathe, and forcing water from my eyes, drowning my breath.
Eyes, they're the windows to the soul. If you looked in them, would you know, realization like a vise?
You're happy. That's good. You heart beats strongly, overshadowing mine.
I'm not happy, but that's okay. Love means wanting the best. I watch you spin around with her and it's killing me, crumpling me, a paper doll.
Ice in my lungs, it crystalizes. I'm not beautiful. You lied.
Whispered words that I thought were mine. You tell them to her, slipping off your tongue easily and sweetly, acid in my veins.
Intoxicating. That's what you are. I'm intoxicated, and there's no coming down. There's no cups of coffee to stave off the effects of my drunken state, drunk off your eyes, staggering and dumb.
You smile at her like she's the world, and it twists me. I must look like a pretzel, beyond recognition.
I knew when I fell for you that you would choose her, but when you did, it still choked me, smoke in my lungs.
And you don't know, completely oblivious, stars twinkling beautifully without a thought, mesmerizing.
It's okay. You've got her and I'm dying, and you're happy.
It seems fair trade, the balances perfect.
Words that I spit are small, insignificant. I'm a message in a bottle, fighting for room.
All I can do is say goodbye, bidding farewell to my heart.
Summer nights and warmth are gone.