Trees Talk Trash.
If I were a tree, collect all of my leaves. And watch me grow into something you could hold. Find comfort on nights as cold as ice. That chill you straight down to your bones, that cover your heart. God cut out of stone, dipped in gold, now it’s too heavy to hold.
If I were a stone. I think i’d sit at home on your desk while you worked. Next to all of the frames of better days. When we still had all the time to grow and you swore I was stronger than an oak. Now I swear I’m old. I’m full of rusty bones and old ghosts of the faces I used to know.
If I were alive. I think I’d like to be outside. So the sun could hit my face and take me back to the days. Where my mom stood by my side, but now I only stay inside. I’m looking for a fresh way to die. Putting shit inside my veins never takes away the pain of a life once lived is now a life that’s lost. I told you I didn’t mind the dark but you keep the lights on.
I’m just a boy. With too much time to create new lies. To keep myself occupied. When the rotting sets in I’ll save a smile for each one of my friends and the tears will finally fall. There isn’t anyone left to call. They’d all be back again like it was when we were fifteen. And the basement was where we wanted to be. Not with girlfriends or better company. I’ll let that breath go that I’ve been holding for so long. God damn I missed you all.
I still smoke. My hearts still broke. You still sing. Just supposed to be with me.
