Made Of Broken Glass

Did we try this more than one lifetime before?
You're stuck to the walls of my subconscious,
Last time ­ no more.
I'm glad you're gone,
I'm thinking straighter lately.
It's not my fault,
If I drive you fucking crazy.
There's no shortage of stupid boy distractions,
I'm still waiting for them to change the fact-
That I miss you.
And that black, motorcycle, wild thing,
Tattooed on your heart,
Along with something equal to broken.
I hope that you know,
I still want you,
(I never mean to)
Mr. Libido,
(Way to go)
Was she a C girl?
A.O.?
Aren't you a poor boy in a perforated mask,
All those things that I did to you.
You're such a poor boy,
I don't really care about your bad excuses,
I'll still admit that I miss you,
And your falsetto, circular, dance hall moves.
My scar,
Matched your skin,
By then you seemed to know we were broken.
I hope that you know,
I still want you,
I never mean to.
I hope that you know.