i miss you and it confuses (the hell out of) me
because there are things that simply cannot be
so convince me it's all just for ***:

the way you stop when it hurts
even when i tell you to keep going
the way you always ask me if im ok
the way you are when you’re moaning
the way you kiss my forehead
the way you hold and ******* body
the way you touch my hand
and tell me you're clingy
the way you say you think of me even when im not there
the way you like it when i call you "baby"
the way you say "i would ******* everyday if i could"
the way you give everything to me

Baby, i wanted to believe you were a bad idea
but i like you more than i thought i did
so much that i could fall —

then, reality hits
we could never be anything more
than the paradise we've built inside these four walls
the thousand little deaths we've buried under your ragged bedsheets
(to the songs we like to get ****** to)

Baby, the lies we've put up with just to keep this going

so convince me until i finally convince myself:
this is just for ***
and let me lie for just a little more