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ぴょんぴょんダンス！

tenshiKanade999

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Chapter One

still waiting

You are strong, you are worthy, you are cherished. 
(  ᴗ ͜ ᴗ  )

頑張ったけど、ダメだった

Less Than Three 生々しく

アウトプット

no one's home

Fragment

たくさん

(..◜ᴗ◝..)
Feeling like lyrics are necessary when it comes to english songs, my accent isn't the best www


There’s a jar of dead flies you kept by the sink
You said they reminded you of the nights we didn’t sleep
I tried to throw it away once, but the lid wouldn’t twist
Now it just sits there buzzing with things we missed

The curtains smell like chalk and lemon rind
You carved your name in the windowsill half-blind
It’s still there, crooked letters filled with dust
I catch my fingers on them like I caught your trust

There’s a shoebox full of phone bills I never paid
They hum beneath the bed, like they’re waiting to be laid
Your old VHS tapes spill out from the closet
I tried watching them once, but the screen just lost it

All my trauma is religion-based
How come I have to move away your bangs to see your face?
It’s called 苦味
The pain of the week is 苦味 (苦味)

All my trauma is on the bedside table
The smell of smoke and nicotine puts me in shambles
So much 苦味
The taste of the week … 苦味 (苦味)

I found a tooth in the pocket of your winter coat
You swore you didn’t know how it got there, like a note
Now I wear that coat when I can’t feel my skin
Buttoned to the neck with the tooth digging in

There’s a bottle of pills labeled “sorrow” in the drawer
I never saw you take them, but now there’s more
I pour them out, sometimes they form constellations
But the stars spell words I can’t trust—just complications

The bathroom tiles still bleed that sick shade of pink
Like the dye from your hair when you clogged up the sink
There’s a bandage wrapped around the fridge door tight
I’m scared to unwrap it—what if it’s more than I can fight?

All my scars are under the skin
The instant weight of doubt and guilt keeps sinking in
It’s called 苦味
The pain of the week is 苦味 (苦味)

All my trauma is tucked in my reflection
The taste of bitter memories is my only protection
So much 苦味
The taste of the week … 苦味 (苦味)

You left a mannequin in the attic dressed in my clothes
Sometimes I hear it laughing when the wind blows
I asked you why, you just smiled and said
“It’s better than talking to the versions of me in your head"

The plants in the corner have grown into the wall
Their vines are writing messages, but I can’t read them all
I water them anyway, though they smell like rust
And the dirt they grow in still smells like your trust

All my scars are deep and hard to heal
Every reminder of the pain I still feel
It’s called 空虚
The pain of the week is 空虚 (空虚)

All my trauma sits heavy on my chest
The sting of old wounds never lets me rest
So much 空虚
The taste of the week … 空虚 (空虚)

There’s a stack of mirrors face down in the hall
I never flip them over—afraid they’ll show it all
But sometimes I feel them breathing when I pass
Like they’re waiting for the final crack in the glass

So much 苦味
The word of the week … 苦味 (苦味)

cute333

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