And when the sun comes up I hope it's my face that greets you, my touch slipping back into your memory and like a bad dream you wake up and remember what you broke. A house full of mirrors you walked in like a psychopath with a baseball bat; swinging and swinging and swinging. I can't change what you've done here and i cut my hands on all the shards of your mess trying to make sense of it all. But I'll wrap up all the wounds and grow stronger. I'll watch flowers grow out of my shoes and find my back. Because I know if a drop of memory floats into my mind at night I pray you can't fall asleep because of the roaring thunderstorms of my laughter, the way I'd kiss you like we were the only ones on earth and now all you've got left is yourself and the ugly truth that wraps around your neck and slowly suffocates you as each lie comes to the surface and people whisper each one to someone else. Because I know if people look at me with the slightest glance of pity I pray their glare cuts you like you cut my trust in so many different ways.
I can't fathom how you get a wink of sleep at night if my mind tosses and turns like this.