Through his scent of smoke and my perfume, I'm thinking of how this reminds me of you. Smokey rooms and root beer floats, he invites me in and takes off my coat. He couldn't hold a candle to you, but at least he was holding me. He wants to kiss me, my mind and my body are hesitant at first, being with anyone but you ******* hurts. but i can't be alone tonight and he feels better than putting up a fight again, with myself about loving you. It keeps spilling out of me like someone's gutted me, ripped me apart, and he can't put me back together again, can't fix me like you can, but he holds my hand until it gets dark. Holds my hands that are covered in my own blood from trying to keep myself together. I don't have the guts to look him in the eyes, I turn my face to the side, and watch the shadows on the wall. I didn't rest my head on his chest to hear his heart beating, because it doesn't mean anything, to me. I didn't intertwine my legs with his, because my heart is intertwined with someone else's lips, someone else's hands, someone else's heart. But it doesn't matter anyway, you don't want to me yesterday, tomorrow, or today. I'm thinking about how everyone reminds me of you, thinking about all of their bedrooms. Wondering if you remember the smell of my perfume, because no matter how hard I try to scrub myself clean, no matter how many people I let see me, who dont see me, I can't get rid of you.