The sun burns brighter every day and I don't have that bitter cold to direct my resentment at anymore.
So I fill my veins with loathing for the heart that keeps me going when I'm so far past useless I can't crawl out of bed.
(Not even just to get dressed.)
Everything is so beautiful in spring.
Everything is so beautiful but me.
So I lie and rot in bed until she comes in to fill me with regret.
And yet again, I regress. I'm such a mess.
I traded every shred of dignity that I had left just to feel her breathe on my skin.
She's such a pretty little mess and I just can't help but give in.
Everything is so beautiful in springtime.
Everything is so beautiful but none of it is mine.
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