twentypills

We’re not the same, dear, as we used to be. The seasons have changed, and so have we. There was little we could say, and even less we could do, to stop the ice from getting thinner under me and you.

We buried our love in the wintery grave. A lump in the snow was all that remained, though we stayed by its side as the days turned to weeks, and the ice kept getting thinner with every word that we’d speak.
And when the spring arrived, we were taken by surprise when the floes under our feet bled into the sea, and nothing was left for you and me.

We’re not the same, dear, and it seems to me there’s nowhere we can go with nothing underneath. And it saddens me to say what we both knew was true, that the ice was getting thinner under me and you.
The ice was getting thinner under me and you

carseatheadrest:

sometimes I think I’m distracted
now I know I’m not at all
I’ve got one thing on my mind
one thing in my mind
it’s a long cold walk back home
in the dark without a car
you can distract yourself with metaphors
but it’s so cold outside
it’s watering your eyes

We are not a proud race
it’s not a race at all
we’re just trying -
I’m only trying to get home
drunk drivers, drunk drivers

in a weird way it’s better this way
these wheels don’t stumble
these headlights don’t flinch
they are born killers
and they don’t cry at night
at the end of the day
we live up to our name
it is right there on the cover of the book

We are not a proud race
it’s not a race at all
we’re just trying -
I’m only trying to get home
drunk drivers, drunk drivers

it doesn’t have to be like this
it doesn’t have to be like this
it doesn’t have to be like this
killer whales, killer whales

In the backseat of my heart my love tells me i’m a mess. i couldn’t get the car to start; i left my keys somewhere in the mess

It comes and goes in plateaus. one month later, i’m a fucking pro; my parents would be proud. or fall asleep on the floor, forget what happened in the morning.
there are notes in your handwriting but you can’t make it out

We are not a proud race; it’s not a race at all. we’re just trying, i’m only trying to get home. drunk drivers, drunk drivers
this is not a good thing; i don’t mean to rationalize or try and explain it away. it’s not okay

It’s too late to articulate it, that empty feeling you share the same fate as the people you hate. you build yourself up against others’ feelings, and it left you feeling empty as a car coasting downhill. i have become such a negative person
it was all just an act, it was all so easily stripped away

But if we learn how to live like this, maybe we can learn how to start again; like a child who’s never done wrong, who hasn’t taken that first step

We are not a proud race; it’s not a race at all. we’re just trying, i’m only trying to get home. drunk drivers, drunk drivers
put it out of your mind and perish the thought. there’s no comfort in responsibility

It doesn’t have to be like this
It doesn’t have to be like this, killer whales, killer whales

Here’s that voice in your head, giving you shit again, but you know he loves you and he doesn’t mean to cause you pain. please listen to him; it’s not too late.
turn off the engine, get out of the car and start to walk

See, that’s what the app is perfect for.