I think I left my heart with you in the summer.
I left it with you in your bed.
I left it smeared and bloody against all the walls you pushed me up against,
Ringing out into the black night like your missed calls at 3am.
I let it spasm, and slow, and die in the interminable silence which crept in when the leaves changed colour.
I want it back.
(Source: good-universe)