“I was about half in love with her by the time we sat down. That’s the thing about girls. Every time they do something pretty… you fall half in love with them, and then you never know where the hell you are.”
A long time ago, before I even met you,
someone replaced my chest with a broken record.
For years, it’s been stammering through
the same old tune.
I want you to know I’m trying.
I quit smoking. I’m doing yoga. And those days
I wake up wishing for death are getting fewer
and farther apart.
No, I’m not ok. But I haven’t been ok
since I was 11, maybe 12. I am still here though.
I’m still breathing. For me, sometimes, that
will have to be enough.
I got to go for ten, how often…if I am like…yeah, Kit is a seven, I think a seven. No, he is a ten.