Jenny Owen Youngs

Love tears me up like a demon. Opens the wounds and fills them with lead, And I'm having some trouble just breathing. If we weren't such good friends I think that I'd hate you. If we weren't such good friends I'd wish you were dead

Love grows in me like a tumor, Parasites bent on devouring it's host. I'm developing my sense of humor, Till I can laugh at my heart between your teeth, Till I can laugh at my face beneath your feet.