Exhaustion That Led To Collapse Burial Etiquette

Under the hum of city lights Where months before I bid my goodnights And hushed my truth Heavy snow kissed my pale flesh Finding comfort in small gestures Burdened by this sense of self Now we’re nothing short of heaven sent You saw through my guise Before I ever could Our images blur into sound Your voice kept me warm I could not keep myself from tripping up Finding comfort in small gestures Burdened by this sense of self Defined by my past mistakes