remember that time you tried to sit me down and tell me all the reasons why my heart was broken?

and i said, You can’t break that which isn’t yours, darling.

i am in a room full of babies who won’t look directly at me,

only at my chest or my shoes or anywhere they can send judgmental daggers because of their conceptions about our history which they shouldn’t give one **** about but people

Feed

off of dramatics.eat them up and **** them out.

oh, i’m sorry, am i making you uncomfortable by staring you straight in the eye? i am not afraid to confront the coffin of words between us but you would rather

Hide.

behind those long lashes and longer lies.

yeah, i know, i feel it too. we’re a walking graveyard of romance that should have been. i scared you because you could have taken me home to your mom. because i have my **** together and don’t play games. because we met under a full moon and a shot of whiskey and it seemed to easy to be true

easy is overrated.

my knees were once floppy for your love. now they are

Locked. rigid. resonating. why do you keep letting fear win all your rounds?

i will never be able to look the other way.

Mormons are boring
with their magic underwear
that covers too much.

I was down on one knee
Sliding that ring on your finger
That I bought after working
In Texas for a year

Now I'm down on two knees praying
I'll forget all
The lies you told
And the ones my mind found out

Looking fir an answer in the bottle
A grin like death
And breath that kills the trees
I put you out
Like a fire on the stove
Faster than greased lightning
I remembered your hands fooling
With the zipper on my jeans

I took two trips across town to the ***** house
Were liquor smiles put my heart at ease
And the only thing now that really matters
Is the way to bed and how much it'll be

At least I know that shes a two-timer
Its written out on practiced smiles
And lipstick
You reapply when I get dressed and leave

It smells like snow.
The air whips crisply through
her lungs as she inhales.

It smells like new parchment.
The excitement of a new book
just waiting to be read.

It smells like Christmas.
Brings her back to when
even Santa Claus was real.

It smells like horses.
They always make her
feel completely free.

It smells like nostalgia,
      brings the memories back.

It smells like regret,
      pain follows each breathe.

It smells like fear,
      that she had but one chance.

It smells like hope.*
That fickle friend
    promises to catch her,
        but still lets her fall.

And now
It smells like you.
So full of the past
that I wish my lungs
                               would
                                      stop.