36 scars later,
and I'm still falling part,
desperately piecing back together
what's left of my dignity.

36 shots later.
and I'm still recovering,
from a shocking blow
to my self-esteem.

36 songs later,
and I'm clinging to my past,
hoping for another pass
at the man i used to know.

36 flowers later,
and you're still kicking up daisies.

xoxo