A hard pill to swallow,
crushed up and snorted,
and taken bitterly like cheap motel coffee,
What a way to start the day.

I didn't think the last time I kissed your lips would be the very last time,
That you would shove me aside for someone half decent, and a dull flamed heart.
And that's when I think:
I am trying too hard.
There is still time, there is still time.  
I've got an hourglass in my head and my heart pinned to my sleeve,
My chest pounding with anxiety and I attribute it to butterflies and give all my love to some strange boy with flowers in his hands,
nothing worth falling for.
I reward myself with a sour taste in my mouth and a thousand metaphorical knives in my stomach.
It's okay, it's okay.
All wounds heal in time,
There is still time, I know.