All this timeI drank you like the cure when maybeyou were the poison.

My battered heart will always be where the ocean meets the sand, I will break over and overEvery day. That is the best andworst part of me.

But my heart is an old house(the kind my mothergrew up in)hell to heat and cooland faulty in the wiringand though it’s nice to look atI have no businessinviting lovers in.

You never need to apologizefor how you chose to survive.-You Have Six Tattoos