when she leaves
(and she will)
she will rip the daisys she planted
right from your very chest and leave
nothing but a few petals and a few more
broken promises.

when she leaves
(and she will)
she will take a part of you
with her for the drive home
and you will lay awake at night
wondering why you feel so ******* empty.

when she leaves
(and she will)
she will rip open your arms and
hide parts of herself inside of you
deep under your skin - inside of your veins
and she'll smile when you scrape at your flesh.

when she leaves
(she already has)
she will leave behind the things you will learn to hate
her nail polish, her earrings, her 'who's a foxy lady' coffee mug
her smile is still stained into the bathroom mirror and
your bedroom still smells like her.

when she leaves
(well, most of her)
she will take everything from you but
still leave enough behind to make you
want to scream and cry,
i'm sorry - i'm sorry.

(feeling awfully self destructive tonight)