my conclusion is concaved.
this love is completely broken,
and the super glue you found last night
was dry by morning. pieces cracking off.
the day and half I spent soapboxing
"he loves me too much sometimes."
because as time took hold, got solid
we lost more and more, momentum.
this american women is fresh on all sides.
and if that sweet road keeps winding
we're absolutely going to get lost on it.
because we took way too much fucking acid
on the moon, where you told me
"this can't be our home, it's too god damn white."