I woke up to lip stick stains on the
Pillow case

and the scent of your cologne on my body

the taste of bitter liquor lingered on my tongue

while the scent of fresh coffee drifted
throughout the home

the senses were so familiar but the scenery was never the same

the bed was always in a new place
and the coffee never tasted the same

the lip stick stains were always a different
shade and I always recalled screaming
a new name

Loving you was like waiting at a stoplight that never turned green.
I could feel the time wasting away.
You drove across the intersection twice and I watched you.
I think you read the road map wrong, as usual, because you looked more confused the second time.
I knew where you were going.
North bound is the way to my house, but you were headed south.
I ran the red light.
I never liked to follow rules anyway.
I caught up to you quickly.
Speeding made my blood rush.
You took a sharp left into a graveyard.
The headstones were all engraved with pairs of initials, the first ones always the same.
You stopped at the newest headstone, the grass hadn't even been replanted.
In the dirt was a single flower and around it were all of the petals.
All I could hear while staring blankly at the grave spot was my voice echoing,
"He loves me not."
And there I stood watching myself get buried by someone I should have known never loved me from the start, but instead had been digging my grave the whole time.

I smell you on my skin
       and I think about the rose garden
and how every flower was different,
     beautiful
           I wanted every one of them,
but darling roses are only for looks
           don't try to pluck them
                                they will only ***** tiny holes
into your fingers
            and draw blood from your veins
darling don't touch me,
          I will only put holes in your heart
and draw tears from your eyes
         I am the beautiful roses in the garden.
               Don't pick me.

The eyes are the ******* of the soul

You play your cards right

Let the eyes tell the lies

People will believe anything that they see

The upside to being depressed

Is you become professional to outdoing the best

A smile here and raise of the eyebrow there proves everything

Especially that "I love you" is true

It's the truth if the matter, that the best is yet to come and I hope you're there to see it and I won't have to tell lies.

I hope you feel like the last petal plucked off of a flower.

"She loves me not."