Between the blades of grass I watched our field of flowers wilt.
There are no more sweaty palms or tango hearts in between our conversations.
You were like helium filling my head with empty promises as if I was a balloon trying to float away in the wind as you kept tugging the string.
Every night is a cold sweat about you. I've been dying to cut this chord wrapped around my neck but I was hoping maybe you'd kill me first.