*G*

Shaken,
I feel the cold iron of your armor in my chest.

November,
another sweet way of saying goodbye this time.

Vodka,
Sour lies and sharp shots to cool down an already icy November.

I knew some,
I once had the patience. It might as well have just been hope.


Chords in a loop in your messy head.
I snuggle your freckles whilst kissing your forearm.

I got the love, the warmth, the innocence
to free up your world's overwhelming anxiety.