Monday, August 11, 2014

sometimes the monsters under our bed sit us down for heart-to-hearts

sometimes i wonder if we sing songs because we're afraid
or because we're not afraid
or if we sing songs to put the birds to sleep


once you left
i read
and read
and reread
wanting the pages to fill me
the way you did

there are a thousand paper days
hands are too far away for holding
and the playing cards can't be shuffled any easier
than your broken-hearted love

this is for the june we didn't eat enough
and the lip service that makes your jaw ache
and the music that is too loud for coffee shops

the walls are white
and the world is hopeless


sometimes scarves look like nooses
and fists are made for skin
the big bad wolf is at your door
and you decide to let him in

the bible has torn pages
and your bed is left unmade
three months broke your heart
and it's her you couldn't save

you're too tired to fall asleep
and the world is hopeless


the list is getting longer
and the pantry has stale bread
your head is getting heavy
as you remember what they said

i'm shutting all the windows
and keeping out the light
i'm not answering my phone
i've given up the fight

your heart is broken by a girl
and the world is hopeless


i'm stitching my feet to the carpet
there's a lead weight on my tongue
my heart's a cold ocean
but the knots are left undone

the walls are white
and the world is hopeless

the walls are white
and the world is hopeless



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