i think about the way your lips taste from time to time
when im lying awake and i can choke down the guilt
because i belong to another boy and it might break his heart if he ever knew
but my heart is made of steel
only breaking when i choose it to
and sometimes late at night when i think about the scars on your upper arm and the ones that spelt constellations on your neck
reminding me of galaxies hiding in your skin
i try to remember your lips on mine - but i've forgotten the way you t-t-taste and
if your lips are pink or red and if the last time we ever kissed they were dry or sticky with something other than us
i was drunk with eyes rolling and tears threatening, put off spirits
i feel sick when i think about you and all those things we did and didn't do and i don't regret a thing -not a single ******* second
but sometimes i swear i still wear the tear stains on my cheeks and the bruises on my ribs
and i lay awake staring at ceilings thinking about your skin on mine from time to time
i cant choke down the guilt because i belong to a boy and i let him press his skin against mine and if he ever reads this i think he will be done
with me and my permanent storm clouds and shaking palms because sometimes broken things aren't worth fixing
and you made me into one of those

there is a certain hue of violet that has a taste
you were shadows and colours and crisp
menthol like a cigarette freezing my lungs out
every time you kissed me

her name was el or at least that's what people were telling me
and i was shivering on the beach the day after
and no one thought to call me

when did we stop?
caring - i mean, i saw it long before you did
(please don't see me)
i miss you more
(i can't stand you)
i love you
(if you leave me i might die)
what im trying to say - is where did we set the limit
where how much pain was okay to share?

sometimes broken things don't get to be fixed
and im sorry but it's just another thing to add to the list
about "why we broke up"