Welcome to the broken hearts club
Lead feather over here?
Her girl's in the mental hospital.
Got stuck there for defending herself against the crack of her fathers whip.
Band-aid Boy?
He's busted.
Failed a drug test and had to break up with his girlfriend.
She's in my English class, and she hasn't spoken a serious word in days.
I guess narrow eyed people will do that to you.
Now, Holy Water, he's the local dealer.
His girl?
She's dead.
I'm not allowed to talk about her.
Some stories are better left here.
His darkness follows him daily, and in the two months I've known him, I've seen him cry once.
Only here.
Only with the rest of us.
And me?
Well my boy is a little bit crooked.
Sometimes he doesn't realize what he's doing until it's too late.
He is not my boyfriend
Everybody says we'd be a cute couple
But all that would come of that
Deals with facing my reality
Realizing that maybe I'm not gonna be okay
Maybe this is fucking me up
More than I'd care to admit.
Maybe this
This club
Is more real than I want it to be
I keep telling myself that I'm here for the lead feather girl
But really
I'm just trying to make it through the day without losing my fucking mind
He and I are sin
We are cold hands
And colder hearts
His collarbones
Run deep enough to rest my head on
But sharp enough
To cut it off
I have spent countless days
Practicing the placement of my eyes
Trying to makes sure that I don't lose myself in him
The last time that happened,
I stayed here for a long time
The broken hearts club.
Wanderers
And magicians
And lovers
And thieves.
