Lorde
- Liability
So I guess I'll go home, into the arms of the girl that I love, the only love I haven't screwed up. She's so hard to please but she's a forest fire. I do my best to meet her demands, play at romance: we slow dance in the living room but all that a stranger would see is one girl, swaying alone, stroking her cheek.
Benedict Smith
- I Wish I Wrote the Way I Thought
I wish I wrote the way I thought; obsessively, incessantly, with maddening hunger. I'd write myself to suffocation. I'd write myself into nervous breakdowns, manuscripts spiraling out like tentacles into abysmal nothing. And I'd write about you a lot more than I should.