i am nothing
more than a messy tourist
don't do more than make
me a couch because despite my words
i will likely not
be staying long
see
i am clumsy
i drop things like your
heart
i scramble to collect the pieces
realize i was never that good
at art
just throw my efforts into the bin
how careless i am
to think that your life is a bin
that it's something i even had permission
to touch
when i come to town and want to stop by
maybe we can go dancing
like streets lights that are slow songs
not even red can make us stop
until you realize
i hitched a ride as soon as my thumb
wasn't wrapped in your hand
let me go.
don't invite me back.
i'll be on the road for a while
telling stories about
midnight memories, chilly museums, the sound of your heart beat
i will say
it sounded like home.
but i was too careless to let her hear the beat of my own