Where would i be without the way
you used to see me?
and when the summer leaves where does it go?
The trees grow old alone
I know the feeling of being uneasy in my skin.
(why don't you call me anymore way too late when
hes already sleeping in that bed of lies
you keep so neat and tidy?)
We draw these lines on our bodies
but so much can change
in the somersault we call a day.
I still need you around
but how long can i wait?
I remember when you fumbled with your keys
and let me in.
I felt the loss like the both of your arms.
We couldn't cool down so instead
we swam in your tiny bed.
Covered up by the raging waters.
I said things I never thought I would
In bated breath.
In confidence.
With the kind of truth that only comes
when you're shaking.
Oh how we were shaking.
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