can i pick again?

give me the right reason,

and i can promise myself all the safe returns you could wish for

i hate you, you fucking little bitch

all caught up in green spider webs of tea kettle houses and

lakes with mermaids

england, together, i could make art, and we'd have a library

and a cold little kitchen with a little back room

i mean back door

it was all planned and i never thought it would work

guess i knew more than i gave myself credit for

i'm more of a pussy now

no mornings filled with apocalypse and broken glass

i wish i had a crush on someone

i could try to love you,

but what's the point,

broken hearts, love letters, white lines

dead by dawn dead by dawn

they chant to me as i pass their eyes

bars of smoke, wooden spoons

you don't wanna see me

maybe i should have been mia

at least she was honest about being the mess she was

i've never been better than her

waiting to happen

god i hate myself.