↳ 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧-𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯.

ii

almond milk // song

intro:
vodka tastes like disappointment and you look like heartbreak when you walk away. cigarettes fade to roses before they decay, a putrid scent. my ribcage cradles dirt and weeds, the moss in my throat captures the words i try to speak.

verse 1:
just got the courage to replace the dead flowers in the kitchen. the more they wilted, the more you became like my religion. you never make the bed, never get out of your head. but as the flowers grew taller i fell even more for you, as the rain kept falling, flooded me out, colored you blue.

chorus:
but i remember that you only take almond milk in your cereal, and you fell out of love with me and into your material. the milk spilled on the floor, seeped through my pores when you slammed the door. how could i miss something so sweet?

verse 2:
i'm scared you will rip off the bandaid, i'm really not willing to let this fade. the almond milk tasted so sweet, but the taste turned to mint as you brushed your teeth. why couldn't we savor this longer? i know that i should've been stronger.

bridge:
vines grew over our windows to keep us safe, but they're overgrown now, tied down my faith. a ghost has replaced you in this room, i'm locked in the attic, praying we will rebloom.

outro:
the tighter i held onto you the more you slipped through my fingers. now all i'm left with are the pictures and memories of us i can't escape but even almond milk has an expiration date.