Glitter In The Wreckage
We’re glitter in the wreckage
bright in the crack of night
the “fuck it, sing it anyway” misfires
that somehow land just right
I woke up on the wrong damn side
of a life I never really signed for
half dressed
half stressed
coffee burned
rent late
bills piling on the floor
Every channel on the screen
is screaming that I’m nothing
if I’m not sleek and rich and pure
But my mirror’s cracked and laughing
whispering
“you gorgeous broken idiot
you’re still the cure”
I’ve got shoes with their soles half torn
and a heart that overdrafts on hope
each week
But the way the sun hits
my chipped-tooth grin
turns the whole cheap day
into something unique
And I’m humming off pitch
in the shower
like a drunk church choir
that forgot how to speak
Every flaw
every scar
every wrong note ringing through my chest
looks like trash on the surface
but inside that junk
there’s a heart that beats the best
I was told to hide the mess
but the mess
might be what I do best
I’ve been told that my joy is “too loud”
that my laugh sounds like a bar fight
in full swing
That my dreams look like graffiti
on a wall where the rich kids
never dare to sing
But my cheap six-string’s got three good strings left
and that’s enough
to make the rafters ring
Every ex
every boss
every petty little voice
that said “calm down, you’re too damn much”
Never understood
that some of us were born to blow the fuse
instead of using a crutch
I’m the saint of wrong directions
still stumbling
into the right kind of touch
They said grow up
shut up
smooth your edges
till you fit their script and suit
But I’d rather die with my hair on fire
than live forever standing on mute
If loving who I am
means saying “no” and “fuck that”
in the same warm breath
Then I’ll toast my flaws
with a chipped glass grin
and dance off-beat with death
Call all the burnouts
call all the freaks
call all the saints who swear
Call all the kids
who were told they’re trash
for daring to breathe loud air
Stack your middle fingers in the sky
like a strange stained-glass prayer
turn that broken window into a mural
let the neighbors stare
Yeah we’re glitter in the wreckage
shining like the world’s miswired art
If love feels strange and loud and cursed
that’s our kind
that’s our part