It's not you

it's not you, it's me. I mean that sincerely, everyone wants someone to blame, can't see the monster in the victim but sometimes... hurt people, hurt people.

hard to accept that I was the one who was the rough patch, not to say you had no flaws but, we were never obligated to help and love one another so unconditionally so prematurely.

You know a cliche is just a really hard lesson we don't want to learn. Like, you have to love yourself before you can love another human; not based on our capacity to love but based on whether we are already enough for ourselves to allow someone else to love us more.

no one can make you happy if you aren't already.

I wish we coulda moved in slow motion for me, so I coulda known how to act. Going so fast I missed out on some scenery and I didn't want shadow memories.

like, we could've been so good together, if only I knew who I was on my own. There's no comfort in the truth, if only I hadn't been so rough maybe you'd be polished in a different way.

if only we would move forward maybe this could go somewhere,

I could go somewhere.

I'm tired of this city, tired of love songs, crave some self-love. Killing my nights thinking about how I could cry just thinking about us, how healed I could be, how beautiful that would be.

if only self-expression came as easily as self-destruction.

maybe I was in over my head wanting to be normal I fast-forwarded in reverse.

sometimes I can't read a book the first time round' and I gotta come back to it later.

sometimes cliches can be stupid but I'm hoping that you were mine and I am yours so that we come back to each other.