Before I could connect the dots
They became like stars
And sat on your cheeks
Painting the universe with scars.
Taking me to a place
Where rain drops elate
And sun dries the fields
Where the great trees yield
Seeds of yesterday's blessings.
Do you know knuckles tighten
Tears swell and bloom,
And vessels seem to cringe
When your name,
Like a knife
Is thrown across the room.
I hate the sour taste of resent on my tongue,
And the emptiness of words
Like the songs never sung.
You, like a cloud, hang too low
Like last night when they pried
So I swallowed the tears to let it go,
Heavy with regret.
Each one of my bones has your initials etched
And probably my forehead too
Because everyone seems to draw a line between me and you
Thicker then it ever grew on your side of the fence.
The truth behind us is as simple as flames,
One always burns faster, and nothing's to blame
But it's 5 pm and my hands have moved on
To someone else's back
And you may hold her hair back for a moment on your bed
But she will never understand the
Mountains in your mind
Or try to climb to sunrise and understand the lies
Like I did one Sunday morning.
I hope she never loves you
Because you deserve nothing more then the sting of the sea you refuse to walk along with me.

And it's still hard to believe it's been a year
even after a year has turned into a year and one month

And the burn that follows a tequila shot
is accompanied by your laugh

And coconut anything smells like you

And anytime any one of the many songs you loved plays
You are all I see

And I think about your eyelashes
when I put my makeup on

And red lipstick and polka dots
cannot be worn without remembering you on any other day

And lemon squares taste
like those good times

LOTR? The Beatles? Pink Floyd? Fleetwood Mac? Shakespeare? Hilary Duff?(only you would understand)
All enjoyed with you in mind

And everything that's awesome
has become a reminder
that you missed being our tequila queen on the first day;
that you never got to wear your cap and gown
and eat pancakes at 5 am;
never got to see eighteen
and put your well educated vote to use;
and you never got to stand to your full five feet and one inch
and say to the world
"Here I come."

And I guess the songbirds keep singing
with that blackbird
in the dead of night

But it's hard to hear
because we're all butchering Bennie and the Jets
at the top of our lungs
from atop someone's couch

Just like you'd have wanted,
just like you'd have done.