Memories of us as the sun set fire to everything I touch.
Hands to myself and forget the idea of love.
Our light has dwindled out.
All that remains is a broken bulb
hanging above
the bed, in the attic of my head.
Scattered shards of glass surrounding comfort.
Every night I walk on our broken dreams and bleed before I get to sleep.
I just lay in the shadow of my past looking for lines you once said.
Only to bury the words again.
Maybe it would make more sense if I stopped resurrecting the dead.
There's a piece of me, no longer alive.
From me to you is a far drive.
So I dig in the dark attic for old and removable parts to repair my broken car. Flashing my lights at anyone who could be you.
Because you're the only one who can see it too.
Our connection is as consistent as me quitting bad habits
For instance, cigarettes, but how could I know when I still haven't?
I crave but can barely manage.
I'm on and off in strange patterns.  
A rusty pull chain hanging from the socket
Stuck with our questions to questions,  irrational logic.
I asked "why do you always escape from what you wanted?"
You slowly whispered "how else would you know if you really got it.".
I guess  I'll figure it as I smoke another cigarette.
I take a hit, before exhaling, i stare up at the sun.
Close my eyes and think of you.
I imagine the smoke soaking up everything I ever wanted to tell you.
Plans, ideas, thoughts, and the rawest feelings I have ever had.
Once it feels right I open my eyes to the empty sky and exhale.
An emotional release.
February air will condense these dreams on to your car window.
You will wipe them off to find your way home.
The last thing you said before you left, "Just keep thinking of me And We'll meet again"
There has to be another chapter before the end of this story being written in my head.
But love and love lost is the ink to my pen of thoughts.
Let it leak in my sleep. Knowing I'll wake up to her gone.
But its okay.
She left the chorus for my song.