It always sounds much better in an empty room
where the smell of leather sticks like a perfume
and the deficit of attention drowns the thought of you

Some place where perspective changes the view
of the perpetual puzzle that takes pieces of you,
and they are aged and altered into something new

The room with a sink, floors tiled, and empty walls,
where you wash your face and you dry it off,
now home to nearly broken strings
echoing
with words only important to me

I love her until she takes herself seriously
We all know she’s a joke to me

I listened to you
so exclusively and intently
I never
want to hear you again

Like a friend,
turned enemy,
turned so much more
in the end

And all the songs
you used to sing
spin out of control
in my head

I used to find it
maddening
until I finally
let it sink in

You only ever
spoke the truth to me
Oh, on that night…
You took me for granted

I still listen for you
at my doorstep
but you will never
step foot again

My friend,
senselessly turned enemy
How poorly you left me
for dead

I loved to hear
you sing -
a precious memory
left in my head

I used to think you
were too good for me
but maybe I was
the better friend

My favorite flower is a ****
But aren’t they all