i’m sitting by the seashore in the arms of a boy i’m worshiping
the sky the breeze is a humming lullaby in my ears
(the boy should stop talking)
he’s checking his watch he’s thinking
about getting high, getting me
high enough i’ll let his rough hands touch
my body high enough i won’t cry
(why would i cry)
(why shouldn’t i cry)
he’s whispering in my ear let’s go tugging my hand toward the forest
we’re returning to tree-canopied darkness
i’m blinking a tear-filled morse code goodnight to the stars
(sweet dreams)
he’s tearing apart gear in the tent in the car he can’t find
rolling papers he’s asking do i know where they are
i’m shaking my head i don’t know i don’t know
(stop, please)
(the boy hates that i don’t smoke) (the boy thinks he can change my mind)
he’s getting angry i’m getting scared
(where have the stars gone i’ve never hated the trees before)
he’s throwing things where the fuck are the rolling papers
now we can’t smoke (thank god) it’s too dark i’m crying he snaps
i’m so tired of being so fucking compassionate all the time
(as if he ever was)
i’m curling into a ball i’m trembling
i’m learning what love isn’t
(the stars would never hurt me like this)