You said these weekends are like
an arrow through a scabbing heart.
It bleeds and it heals,
it bleeds and it heals,
you said.
It's just like cutting it
while I bleed summer.
Well, Anna, these weekends will be all we have left.
I guess that's just like cutting it.
When it's just cutting skin.
You said
When we met I was white as snow.
But I guess I've been laying in the dirt too long.
You said with him,
you were always on cloud nine.
With me, it was always raining.
You said you wanted to grow old together
well I guess I've been aging too fast for you.
Well soon
I'll be dead.
And you won't have to put up with me anymore.

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