I have this map on my wall and it has every pinpoint of where I want to go and somehow, your heart is still pinned there
And I've thought that maybe I've learned by now, but guess not
Once again you've reached way back into the depths of your heart and pulled mine off the shelf where you can't seem to put an order to things
You dusted it off for finger prints, but only found yours
I told you, you always rip my heart out of my chest, "accidentally" fall over a table then step on it getting up and give it back, but then again
You don't give it back, you still have it, which makes all of this worse
I keep telling myself that I'm not as good at poetry like I used to be and I think that's your fault
But maybe I just want to blame you for everything
I guess, I just really didn't see this one coming
But, that's my fault
I should of never answered your call