Sometimes my heart jumps in front of the train wreck that is my head and answers for it... Forgetting of course, that it will bear the results of its rashness in the small hours of the morning, when all you have is a mickey and fifteen ways to swallow it so that it burns everything away.
Asleep at the wheel (just to run myself over.) From their mouths the words feel like car-wrecks. My insecurity is my seatbelt, choking me alive.
Even the weather stood me up. A whiteless Christmas is the cruelest kind of punishment for kids like me. At least I packed the moon. Tonight I'm going to give my tired eyes a break and let my heartbeat sing them to sleep.IfIHaveToWalkImGoingJustTheSame
