Bottle green, my

Favorite jar

I used to keep my questions in like

Why is she crying still?

And do you know how glass is made?

Do you know how glass is made?

Glass is made.

We did not wear

Velvet gloves

When we chose to expose our hearts

In a year of earthquakes and those aftershocks

We learned how glass can break

Yes, we learned how glass can break

Glass can break.

The things I said

I did not mean them

There were demons in my head

Blowing out of proportion

The thing you said to me

There is no such thing as subtle

Cruelty.

Bottle green, my

Favorite jar

I used to keep my questions in like

Why is she crying still?

And do you know how glass is made?

Why is she crying still?

And do you know how glass is made?

Do you know how glass is made?

I learned too late.