if i gave you pretty enough words
could you paint a picture of us that works
an emphasis on function rather than design
arent you tired cause i will carry you broken back
and blown out knees..
i have been where you are for a while
arent 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
alone i am exhumed just a little less human
so much 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 ill show you that place in my chest where my heart still tries to beat...

just go on and say it