When I wake up on fire
and get caught in the sheets,
my dreams of safety hit the floor.
I've heard the air raid too many times before
to be bothered by the bombs.

And you ask me why I'm holding on
to what you're holding over my head.

Well I am lost in the space you left between good and bye.
And the butterflies
get caught in my throat
when they try to follow you away from me.

I believe in healing.

Just heal me.

а мне делать нехуй. сиди по ночам и страдай хуйней. хаха.