pull me in a little tighter now, baby, and hold me a-far -

i'm the neck of an empty bottle smashed
through your fingers and the wall. did anyone ever tell
you that you're goddamned good at saying the words
gluing my tongue to the inside of your cheek. 'cause
we're a whiskey-stained, starcrossed love collapsasion -

is it selfish to say i'm not sorry that i don't want to fix you.