hot baths and black coffee will fix my heart
electronic cigarettes and lip oil will mask the downturn of my lips
rambling melodies and solemn lyrics will tune the ‘wrong’ chord within me
I read words and see people and hear songs that carve instructions into my heart, tell me that my ‘things’ will kill me in the end
And yet I wake up, drink my coffee, oil my lips, listen to my music, because it will all fix me in the end













