Just know she she sits alone on darkened Tuesday nights writing about broken things and I swear to god with my bare hands I'd try to mend that little heart, with anger being our blockade tonight I scream at the moon till my throats gets dry and shaky begging it to shine a bit brighter. You never asked me how my day was , or kissed me in places people knew you and I'm here climbing ladders to get to the moon so that if you're sitting alone on a Tuesday night at least you have some light. I've realized that I was always trying to find ways for you to see me even when I was right in front of you.
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