It's 1:00am and I can't stop thinking of the way you hold your cigarette.
It's 1:00am and I can't stop thinking of the way the street lights shine on your back as you longboard down the street.
It's 1:00am and I can't stop thinking of the way you speak about the bands you love.
It's 1:00am and I can't stop thinking about the fact that you love your cigarettes more than you fancied me.
It's 1:00am and I can't stop thinking about the way you left that day.
It's 1:00am and I can't stop thinking of how you said you weren't ready for commitment and I couldn't help but stare at the tattoos across your skin.
It's 1:00am and I can't stop thinking about the way you spoke of her as though she were the perfect piece. It's 1:00am and I can't stop thinking about how I was the only person in your life that you didn't see as a form of art.
Maybe I wasn't broken enough for you.
It's 1:00am and my wrists are bleeding and I wonder, if you saw me now, would you think I'm broken enough for you to love me?