I'll speak as if you'd hear me, and you'll listen like the leaves.

Hungry hands tear at my tissue paper skin. Every breath feels like the oceans swell, and I can taste my heart beating at the back of my throat.

This is it Sally. This is the unattainable glory your empty heart aches for, and yet your insides are a rainstorm.

Love is poison and my addiction is irreversible. So I'll turn all the oven knobs and lay my soul on the stovetop. Fill my cup and hide the bendy straws. Love is a poison, and I'm afraid I've started to build a tolerance for it.

You can kiss me with the kitchen knives, and I'll sing to you from the all the places I run. Pack our hearts in a picnic basket and return only pieces of mine. Broken is all I've known, broken is all I am.

The scars from scolding water fade, but these memories never will. They whistle and they wail and they always bring me back to your name. My desperate hopes grow love like weeds and hate like green grass. The dandelions tell me to run, but I've become accustom to the pain inside these fences.