what if it’s all true, what they tell us about people

who turn translucent when they forget how to breathe

you know i don’t believe you when you tell me you are sleeping

you know i don’t believe you when you tell me you are awake

i turn myself into a tree

to soak up your grief

my roots drink your salty tears

my leaves scare off your mouldy fears

i bloom in fuchsia, like your guilt

and in yellow like your dreams

i bloom in blue like the way, you were orange and i green

i bloom in blue like the way, you were orange and i green

there is so much for you and so little for me

for every word i’ve written, you gave me a seed

i’ve been a good collector of bad dreams

a good protector of the bees

i’ve been a good pen pal at times, but this honesty of mine, it makes my pages blank

oh, it makes my ink so gray

i bloom in fuchsia, like your guilt

and in yellow like your dreams

i bloom in blue like the way, you were orange and i green

i bloom in blue like the way, you were orange and i green

i turn myself into a tree

it’s so hard to reach you

there’s so much in between

my arms aren’t long enough to hold you anymore

my arms aren’t long enough to hold you anymore

my arms aren’t long enough to hold you anymore

my arms aren’t long enough to hold you anymore