You said I was your money, used but beautiful. You gave me joy but you also gave me the gun. It's funny how you make me feel alive but with you im getting closer to death. You gave me frostbite in my memory, memories of happiness when we first met and how you said my chipped nail polish was beautiful because it reminded you of me, broken but still fixable. You froze the memories that burned into my brain because you realized the best way to fix yourself is to tear me down even more. Break me down, rip me apart then try to fix me up with cheap tape and cliche love notes. Notes, pitiful notes that I've read a thousand times but I think a thousand and one plus some heartache on the side will satisfy you.
