i talk a lot about hearts.
funny that, as i'm currently trying to work out if i've still got mine.
or if i ever had one in the first place.
i watched as you scratched our names into a table, between 'rob 4 janice 4eva' and 'no fringe no minge'.
what is there not to love about that?
i saw the future mapped out in a picture of the new york skyline.
brooklyn bridge shines brighter than you do.
i spent too many nights living out of second-hand photo albums.
i can't look myself in the eye. i'd buy you a way out with the change i carry in those bags.
crop circles but less spectacular.
i'm always asking too much and expecting too little.
avoiding body contact at all times incase you brush right through me.
afraid i'm as invisible as i feel.
she's done with him painting her cheekbones black and her ribs blue.
inside a dream but breathing a nightmare.
fuck being on the best side of your bedside -
i passed up stains on sheets for eyes just as easy as words.
and look where that got me.
peaceandfuckinglove
