it's just a little drizzle on my shoulders now
my hands are empty of yours and
i've never felt so light before
there you are -
side of the road; last month's heartbreak still on your face
hands in pockets and words shoved even deeper
i bring up love
and you bring up how forever was never ours
to claim, except i wanted us more than
the air in my lungs
(i tried to trade one for the other and you
still didn't know what to say)
the poetry i write is stinking
of greyscale rain your hands are the cold
of another girl's and this will be the part where i
walk away