Where would i be without the way you used to see me? and when the summer leaves where does it go? The trees grow old alone I know the feeling of being uneasy in my skin. (why don't you call me anymore way too late when hes already sleeping in that bed of lies you keep so neat and tidy?) We draw these lines on our bodies but so much can change in the somersault we call a day. I still need you around but how long can i wait?
I remember when you fumbled with your keys and let me in. I felt the loss like the both of your arms. We couldn't cool down so instead we swam in your tiny bed. Covered up by the raging waters. I said things I never thought I would In bated breath. In confidence. With the kind of truth that only comes when you're shaking. Oh how we were shaking.