all these broken pieces just feel like glass in my stomach
and I can not digest any more of my thoughts
they're spilling out and spelling out all that i cant say
even just looking at them makes me want to run away.
these hours turn into days
of me not wanting to move
of the glass house in my stomach
breaking upon my innards, slowing down my groove.
im broken and flawed
and i'd be lying if i said i was cleaning up well
because everytime i look at you
my eyes tear up, and my head hurts
my stomach ties in knots
i'd be lying if i told you
love could fix all my thoughts.