my broken heart

2 a.m in my room with my vinyls and my shity indie music. my tears tastes like salt I don't care if i sound sad you broke my heart don't you dare to say "sorry" or to worry about my life. my friends tried to warn me about you but I were blind. right now, I can hear the sound of my broken heart, isn't an art? 3 a.m I just can't understand Why? why? I have to run in the woods to cure my wounds? Just, fuck you and your pretty lies! at least, I can do it with a broken heart.