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i wrote this for you with my bare hands.
*10.28.03* @ *9:25 p.m.*
when he crawls around, with his heart cupped in his hands, he's got those eyes that say, "here, i made this for you with my bare hands."
and there i go with the audacity to not care. kicking him in the jaw, screaming in his face about my audacity to not care.
fast forward.
i'm crawling around, with my heart cupped in my hands, open eyes screaming, "here, i made this for you with my bare hands."
but he's not there to pick me up. to cup my hands, cupping my heart. to see my eyes and hear what they were screaming.
talk about audacity to not care, but i guess that's just like him.
impossible to care about those girls that fell to their knees over him.