jakwob

Find myself picking up the pieces of me that you discarded
So, this is what they talk about when they say, ‘broken hearted’
Thought I was a together kind of person, the type who had a handle
As fate would have it I’m exploding like a roman candle.

And it’s pretty in the sky
Such a beautiful way to die
But I want my sparkle back
Why does it always fade to black?