I'm tired of searching for someone like you.
Not just another person to *****.

I remember your truck..
brown, rusted, perfection because you were there.

I remember who I was when I met you
young, thin, hair down to my denim belt loops.

I remember the feeling of the first time
loving, slow, your warm breath against my neck.

But then I remember the fighting...
bruises, lies, cover-up.

So there I go again.. back to the truth
I never want to find another like you.