(scatter in pairs)

My brain is the word whispered from a shaky believer to the one i believed in longer than i'd like to admit. along a bedside. beside the accident waiting to happen again even when she swore things would end up better than this.

Even though they do sometimes and so do i there's still a quiver in her tongue.

And i bite mine.

So in the morning they'll be something real to survive the night.