FicWad

Pumping overtime
It triggers an earthquake inside
Shakes up all the others
So that they’re in all the wrong places

Each breath just steals more
So I take it out
To make my plain white shirt different
With something that’s meant for you

It’s all messy and broken
And my stitches are all crooked
But it’s there, it’s there
And it’s yours, if you want it