you had your pulse on the line, it went straight and then up north.
Hang up the phone if you're not going to say it.
I have open wounds from where the bullet hit
and chest pains from the phone calls.
I think we were running a hospital rather than a relationship,
maybe we're the casualties of a war breakout
because when we broke up,
i cracked my ribs under street lamps
in Florida
and my heart on tables in the class room.
You were burned into my poems like a forest fire
and I promise, there's no putting this one out.
And if I can't tell if this is love or just an airport terminal,
who's to say it's a fight in the first place?
We can't swim the ******* ocean without one of us drowning
and odds are, the other will be holding us down.
But we are not anchors, love, we are only
the after thought of someone who has been through this before.
We are faulted and we are not ashamed.
No, we are not ashamed that we are broken and we will remain this way.
Keep your hand up if you're ready to fall because you've already broken us down once,
let me do it again
and again and again
until we both know that this is only the airport terminal talking
and we have no room to say anything.