The blankets found their way to the floor
the movie half finished but not yet watched.
I turn to look at you and in return receive an impish smile
as you nuzzle your face in my neck.

You know what that does.

The wipers interrupted our strained silence.
Even the radio was turned off (I was trying not to cry.)
You were ever-so angry and I was ever-so sorry.

Later, you told me over the phone I was special and you loved me.
I just wasn't sure you meant it until you showed up on the doorstep.

She puts her hand in his back pocket.
I know they're going home together tonight.

She's about as predictable as a fortune cookie (everything always ends in bed.)
In three days she'll forget the whole thing. (I wish everything in life was that easy.)

She says ***** like it's a bad thing.
But I smile and give her a small look.
It feeds my ego.
My words feel like poison in her veins
and I honestly don't give a flying **** what she thinks of me.

So I walk away.
Swaying my hips just a tad.

Her bare feet slapped against the pavement.
Tulle skirt stuck to her sweaty thighs.
The first drop fell.
Rain came that day.

Arms outstretched, she started to twirl.
Until the footsteps came near.
Out of time with the thunder claps and bursts of light.
She stopped and stared.

He was there.
Drenched in the rain.
Watching.
She laughed and pulled him to dance with her.

The smell of coffee and black sharpie fill your senses
Dragging yourself out of bed, you wrap the sheet around your naked body
Your head hurts more with every movement, every thought.

The sticky note on the door
written in small, squished, boy-like writing
"I never promised you forever."

When the cop appears we go the speed limit.
When his tail-lights dissaper
His foot is back on the gas pedal.
Pushing us faster and faster.

We take curves at dangerous speeds.
And I feel my body like a rag doll.
My body disobeys me as I try to stay centered.
Gravity wins and pulls me close to the window when we turn right.