don’t hold your tongue i know we’re done i’m not an idiot there’s no coming back from where we’ve been and who we’ve been with but these are not the people we thought that we would touch and i’m scared that if i see you i’ll start missing you too much
i know i felt like home a year ago when this was new we’ll learn who we are when we drift apart when we drift but when did we become so old tomorrow i turn twenty four and i’m still chasing the dreams we had in high school
now we’re clinging onto objects that someone else had touched in hopes that we still smell them in the fabric and the dust i took the book you wrote me and i tore it into shreds but i still keep it in a shoe box in a space next to my bed i want to hold you until i’m empty and i’ve got nothing left so when you let me go could you do it slow
and i’m sorry that i went away i just needed some time to make the pain into something you can hold