Sometimes i wish what never killed me actually did… like my lips, i wonder how you never managed to taste insecurities and words i never let slipped out when we kissed. Remember when i told you, you gave me butterflies? What i had meant was the butterflies in my stomach are more like cocoons and that they had the same idea as you when it came to waiting for the right time to bloom. You’re probably going to break my heart and i’m probably going to let you, but i will hold onto you like the father i had to watch leave, i will hold onto until it hurts… your ribcage will feel like it’s caving in and at the verge of digging into your heart. i’m haunted by the nights in bed where i was holding you & you were holding a grudge. What’s the exchange rate on an unforgettable memory? Do I have to burn every place that can recall me slowly falling for you?