Living Saints

I cut my fingers on a broken picture frame

The welling up waxes and wanes. It's not fair and it hasn't been

All my friends are living saints. Been killing me for weeks

A garden weed that cracks concrete. It hasn't been fair for long

Growing up isn't moving on.

Do you miss our broken reason or the nights spent treating

Troubles and normalcy to bottles and comedies?

You forgot your necklace upstairs on purpose

It was you golden ticket scam and it always made us laugh

Do you see me as your acquaintance, your death by time, age and long

distance?

Broken picture frames

The welling up waxes and wanes. It's not fair and it hasn't been

All my friends are living saints. Been killing me for weeks

A garden weed that cracks concrete. It hasn't been fair for long

Growing up isn't moving on

All my friends are living saints

Broken still but never breaking ties

I never pictured this, disperse in fall and don't reminisce

See it's just not fair, not everyone moved on