Sometimes I think my heart is delicate because I made it that way. Sometimes I think I wished for a life of unrequited love and heartache and the universe gave it to me. Sometimes I think I need it to be broken. I need the edges jagged. I need the seems torn.

If it's too pretty. If it's too perfect. It turns to ash in my mouth. And even when it's sour I'm not happy. I see greener pastures over every fence.

I seethe envy for a lie. I morn for a love that never was. A daydream that never existed. I fire that never burned.

But I'm tired of writing sad songs. I'm weary of my melody of woe. I want to feel the sunshine on my skin. I want to light a beacon in my heart. I want to tell you I'm alive now. I want you to know the winter's gone.