I'm constantly building myself up and tearing myself down. I think I'd just prefer to be like broken glass. I want to fall into the shards of everything I used to be, and cut my self on the sharp edges of my past mistakes. The words in my head move faster than my tongue and teeth or finger tips ever could. Don't ever think you're getting the whole story from me cause it's gone like a marquee board. I'm the last single beep on your heart monitor. The lipstick stain on your nicotine stained teeth. I'm a last chance. I'm a whispered regret.
I'm breaking down but I wouldn't have it any other way.