morgan martinez - exchanging flowers for words | Текст песни

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• morgan martinez
• exchanging flowers for words

I wanna go back
to the days before I met you
Seventeen, five months shy
of graduating high school.

I spent my days
scribbling on notebook paper,
and sobbing over Damien Rice

I hated my double chin
and my awkward desperate plea
for something
that was not quite mine
yet.

Those were the days
Those were the days
getting out of bed felt catastrophic
I romanticized my curls,
painted my nails
and thought that meant I could change
the fucking world.

I wanted someone to pull me underneath them,
I wanted someone to swallow me whole,
if it meant I could feel something
other than the absolute horror
that I called the transition from
winter to spring,
I smoked cigarettes and thought that meant
I was not innocent
anymore.

And then I met you,
and the transition felt like something else,
something was brewing inside me,
my skin burned red
and felt like a desert,
and everytime you touched me,
felt like apologies for things that
we hadn’t gone through yet.
I was eighteen
and I just called the apologies
love.
You knew this had already ended
before it began.
But something made you stay.

Flash forward
past my silly attempt at art school
without money.
I moved back home and
stopped making art completely.

I called this my incubation period.
I made excuses for myself
and all I talked about was Chicago.
I felt the light inside of me dim,
like it was a moving train back to where
I belonged.
You didn’t like this,
so you talked to someone else
and I couldn’t eat for a month.

I thought about the first few months
of our lives together,
we talked about everything
(and now we don’t talk at all)
You told me you had cheated more than once,
masked it and described it as “karma” for the women who had screwed you over,
and I asked you if you believed in the phrase,
“Once a cheater always a cheater.”
You said, “Absolutely,”
and I misunderstood a lack of trust
as honesty,
and I had never gone a day without
admiring someone who could tell the truth.

After a year and a half I was blinded with the paranoia of losing you again,
how was I going to let someone go who had changed me the way you did,
who shaped me,
gave me kisses
and cigarettes
whenever I wanted.
Every visit felt like it might be the end,
I made sure to carry all our memories on my back
while I carried you too
I had to treat every moment like the last
just incase we went to war again.
But I wanted you to meet everyone I knew,
I wanted to scream to the ends of the earth
oh, this is love
this is love.
Love isn’t anything if you hadn’t gone
through hell and back with that person,
this is love,
this is love.

Don’t get me wrong,
I’d be lying if I said we didn’t have our good days together.
On the good days,
you did
take care of me.
Don’t get me wrong,
there were days when you knew how to love me just right,
held my body like it was a temple
just waiting to be opened up by you again.
I loved watching you from across the room when you related to my family,
I loved grocery shopping with you
and wasting time bickering over the things you wanted and I didn’t.
There were days when you knew how to love me just right.

Almost two years and we talked about building a life together,
every person I knew accepted you
and loved you unconditionally
and I felt like my heart
was going to explode.
Every visit did not feel like it was going to end,
there was a glimmer of hope,
the train that I once wanted to take me to Chicago,
was now only to take me to you,
I felt happy oh god I was so happy,
and I held your promise on my finger.

And then we hit our two year mark,
and something shifted.
Someone turned off all the lights,
we

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