I brought a shaking hand to a windowpane and shook like how I used to. It was colder back then before I had ever bet tragic. The headline read, right above my head, in a black and white spotlight, you've lost the war.
We sink and we swim and we lose track of who we've been. When the salt left our tongues, we woke up with scars the size of oceans.
We've got cold hands to keep the heat from our hearts. Yeah, we've got a pulse, so why check if it's even beating? I brought five points to the edge of her mouth and her words came out like sleet from her teeth, from behind her teeth.
I'll lay my head on the floor and call this place my home when the sky rains black and the sea shines gold, when the river runs dry and the streets turn to coal- I will lay my head and call this kill my home.