You're just someone lost in my backyard, smelling like rotting tangerines that you've been throwing at the neighbors house for an hour, sticky sweet skin like the pollen inside the prettiest roses. Do you think it make you, with your arms outspread to feel the rain, do you think the lightning is going to waste its time on you?
You could be anyone.
I'm just a girl, lost behind a camera lens, spinning to a song that's worn out & getting fuzzy. I'm reading books at 4 in the morning, until words start to swell & blur, moving with my breath. And my knuckles are the color of an over ripe pear, from punching my wall until I couldn't feel it anymore. I'm not telling you the whole truth, but I'm not lying.