Your words are like hiccups, they make me feel drowsy.

I keep them on record for when I need sleep.

Your mind's like an anchor, where, when I feel lousy

I can take in the decor, it makes me feel deep.

I tear back the covers for morning to hit me

The blinds pulled back blind me with light.

My bedroom still echoes the sound of a lover

And memories made through the night.

My horoscope said, "You'd be better off dead"

But I don't live according to plan.

If the life that I've led had been lived in my head

My heart would've spilled through my hands.

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