None of what I say is less brittle than snow
Haven't you seen my face?
I laugh too loud
My eyes are shifting
And my palms sweaty with a manufactured dread.
This morning I woke up with a heartache
Maybe I want to be 20 again
To make the mistakes I didn't
Although at the heart of hearts I can tell
The only thing I want is too shameful for me to admit.
Simplicity is no less brittle than snow
And I am trying to be real
Find real
But God, I keep seeing patterns and I despise them.