I spent the end of last October crying on your shoulder.
I'll just never win.
We're going through this,
I'm not even there. I'm never there.
My mind, it could use a little peace and quiet.
My soul wouldn't mind a warm place to hide.
My ears are red and sore from always standing in the snow.
My lungs need air. I spent it on all the "thanks yous" and "goodbyes."
through
things
there
thanks
standing
shoulder
shaking
scared
quiet
place
peace
clawing
before
going
goodbyes
breaking
crying
tongue
ashamed
losing
against
always
anymore
tired
spent
bleeding
anything
bones
deserve
hands
could
little
october
helpless
lungs
never
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