i like your smile
and how you smell
and how soft your voice is
and maybe no one knows
how i feel about you,
but the wind knows
and the late drives on
stretches of highways
and smiles up at the sky
know

you'll see me at the bottom of the liquor bottle,
you'll hear my voice in the last sip,
and you'll cry out for me as you stumble,
because just like alcohol,
i'll bleed in your veins for awhile

one day you'll ask me why
i hate the smell of beer,
and i'll have to tell you
it filled the air when he hit her,
then you'll notice
how i avoid red wine,
and i'll look away to say that
she reeked of it when she screamed at me,
you'll pick up on
how much ***** makes me gag,
and i'll be ashamed to tell you
i washed it out of my hair at 3 am while sobbing,
i'll push away jack
and you'll be sure to ask why,
and i'll cry and tell you
i can't remember why i hate it,
that i can't remember much at all

and then you'll know who i was
when i wasn't me

you act like i've chosen to be the way i am.
i can't control anything.

love is knowing the exact sound of your voice,
even after not hearing it for a while

sirens are
a lullaby,
yelling is
a constant,
lying is
a habit