There isn’t a word for girls still up at 12:57 am writing poetry.
It’s a school night for some,
But there’s a noise in my head that won’t stop knocking against the walls.
There should really be a word for us,
If you look close enough,
You’ll see that there isn’t a distinction between melancholy and broken hearts.
Gray skies have a tendency of being over-bearing.
I guess that’s why I can’t seem to pick myself up this time around,
The weight of it all.
You’re smile should be a crime.
And the way your lies reassure so easily…,
I will not forsake you.
I will not…