and it paints a grotesque scene of every little earth shattering thing that you did to me without warning. Rip through me like wrapping paper on Christmas Day, while momma smiles because she knows she did right by that list you wrote for a fake being.
All it is, is words. Jotted down quick so you wouldn't forget them like you forgot me. An 'I love you' splattered across phone screens only to mean nothing when you're miles away. I wasn't, and couldn't ever be what you need.
You needed the golden state, all west coast, and gold teeth. I was an east coast breeze. A girl who would've given her last breath if it meant seeing you smile with teeth, but you ripped them out one by one, each one another cut heartstring.
A girl who would have jumped just as high as your love would allow, but you couldn't give it to me. Only marionettes and puppets strings, dance for me, you said, while I lie through these broken teeth.