He was the type of boy who said
He wanted to fix you
But three months later you'll find yourself crying
On a bathroom floor because
You forgot that you were made of glass
And it doesn't take much to shatter your bones.

And he'll swear that he loves you but
In four months you'll be outside of the ER
Begging for painkillers that'll make you forget
How to breathe because you no longer want to feel
What it's like to be at war.

And one day you'll learn how to drown in bottles of liquor
Because you don't want to remember who you are but
The way he tasted
Will always be burned into the back of your throat and
No amount of ***** can wash away
The reminder that you still keep the back door open
Incase he ever decided to come home.