Hugs For Hopeless Bastards
There is always one kid at the edge of the party who looks like an apology wearing boots
holding a drink like it bit first
Back against the wall, shoulders up by their ears
laughing half a second late at every joke like they are bracing for the worst
You can see the history in the way they flinch when someone raises a hand too fast
even to wave or point out the door
They talk big shit about not needing anyone
then go quiet when the cabs pull up and the couples peel off in twos and fours
Their phone is full of numbers they never dare to text twice
ghosts of almost-connections and burnt-out chats
They call themselves trash in a joking tone that does not land as a joke
and the silence after that tells you exactly where their head is at.
The world writes “hopeless bastard” across their file and moves along to shinier cases with clearer signs
Nobody lines up to love the one who already carved “lost cause” in their mind with cheap knives and old lies
Yet these are exactly the hearts that need arms around them when the music gets loud and the tension declines.
This song is hugs for hopeless bastards
for the ones who swear they do not give a shit and still stare at the door
For the kids who pretend they are fine while checking every shadow for the ghost they heard before
If you ever felt like a broken appliance left on the curb with a sign that says “free
” Come here, you stubborn wreck
you belong right next to me.
You grew up in houses where “I love you” sounded like slammed cabinets
bottles in the sink, and long cold drives
People said they would stay
then left footprints in the snow and excuses in your inbox while you counted the days they stole from your lives
When you did find tenderness, it came with fine print
rules about how quiet you needed to be
how often you could weep
Till you started offering yourself in pieces
cheap and small
thinking anyone who wanted the whole thing must be a fool
or in too deep.
Each time you cracked open a window, someone climbed in
rearranged the furniture
then vanished with half the floor
Now you lock everything, swallow the keys
laugh too loud, drink too much
talk about trusting anymore
But your eyes keep drifting to the exits like you are still hoping somebody will walk back in and stop keeping score.
This song is hugs for hopeless bastards
for the ones who swear they do not give a shit and still stare at the door
For the kids who pretend they are fine while checking every shadow for the ghost they heard before
If you ever felt like a broken appliance left on the curb with a sign that says “free
” Come here, you stubborn wreck
you belong right next to me.
I am not here to fix you
not here to stitch every scar into some inspirational quote the internet can share
I am here to sit beside you on the filthy curb of this fucked up planet and admit that sometimes breathing feels unfair
We can talk about nothing, curse old lovers
hate-watch bad shows
pass snacks back and forth till the panic ebbs a bit
You do not have to earn a damn thing; touch is just a right
we can live with it.
This song is hugs for hopeless bastards
for the ones who keep pretending they are better off alone and cold
For the voices that say “I’m fine” while their hands shake lighting cigarettes they swore they quit three months ago
If you think you are unlovable
you have been listening to liars with your skin instead of watching the true love grow
Hugs for hopeless bastards, no promises here
just open arms and a soft “fuck it
you deserve to be held” every time you feel low.
Next time you call yourself hopeless
hear a second voice in the noise that says “not on my watch
kid, ” Hugs for hopeless bastards, and yes
that includes the idiot who wrote this.