"You’re sleeping with the light on like you’re dying to be found out."

i'm sick of taking hits, i want to write them.
paper hearts being burned for warmth.
holding out for what's not worth your time
for my best friends and your secrets
i'll find myself in your head again
just longing to be someone else
i'm not all there cause you've got a piece of me still
i'm all wrong ; starting with you
and all the guns you've had to my head
my best friend
are the blankets and sheets that you once used
they keep me close and heavy thoughts at bay
i loved everything about you that wont make it out alive
we're kissing for good luck and not much else.

you know i do,