For awhile I was mad.
And although Heaven was on
your lips, I didn't understand
why tears were the only things
you wanted to taste.
I see you, darling, with that
cigarette resting between your
fingers and baring a little less
gleam in your eyes.
Don't ask me how do I feel.
The last time felt anything you were
easing out of my bedroom and I wanted to
commit suicide.
Give me my smile back, I need it more than
I need you.
You hid it in your "Thing I used to love" box
along with your thigh-high school skirt and
bubblegum lipgloss.
And tell me, am I still a resident at the back
of your mind? Do I hold some place in your
crowed heart along with the other peoples
whose names you've forgotten?
For awhile I was mad.
Maybe I'm just healing.