Made Of Broken Glass

Did we try this more than one lifetime before?
You’re stuck to the walls of my subconscious
Last time no more
I’m glad you’re gone
I’m thinking straighter lately
It’s not my fault
If I drive you fucking crazy
There’s no shortage of stupid boy distractions
I’m still waiting for them to change the fact-
That I miss you
And that black, motorcycle, wild thing
Tattooed on your heart
Along with something equal to broken
I hope that you know
I still want you
(I never mean to)
Mr. Libido
(Way to go)
Was she a C girl?
Aren’t you a poor boy in a perforated mask
All those things that I did to you
You’re such a poor boy
I don’t really care about your bad excuses
I’ll still admit that I miss you
And your falsetto, circular, dance hall moves
My scar
Matched your skin
By then you seemed to know we were broken
I hope that you know
I still want you
I never mean to
I hope that you know