maybe tomorrow we'll change the world.
act like someone sensational to get ourselves heard.
the lights are on in ghost towns, but no one's home.
abandoned and disillusioned, we pay debts with confusions.
it's the confession not the priest that brings us absolution.
50's dresses in space houses - clash of the times,
the titans are long gone.
giants are only tyrannous when they realise how small we are. don't fill them in unless you're sure.
and even then rethink yourself.
second guesses and rosebud kisses.
pillow conversations say more than eyes open ever could. fingertips on napes of necks -
slip and it breaks.
clean cuts are all the rage, but easier said than planned.
i'll spell this out so you completely understand:
i mean nothing i say, but i say everything i mean.
sometimes you won't see it until you look between the lines.
fingertip graffiti - i'll write your name on your wrist so you can watch as you cut yourself open.
my name will catch crimson fears.
we'll intertwine under moonlight.
until you realise you'll never be mine, and go back to her like we both knew you would.
because ultimately, this will never be enough.
