I look at you and I don’t feel him
Your cold stare, tequila talking
The way the tales roll off your tongue
As if you were an honest man
And me your aching story keeper

So much hesitation but I’m no fool
From the taste of you, I know the verdict
You take my hand and it’s too late
Call me by my name, let me swallow your pain

The aftermath is something to let burn
Your touch feels like something sinister
I’m craving the feeling of filling the void
Maybe it’s real, maybe I like to hurt

22nd of September, a rush of fall in the air
White caps of the river racing, a sweater
The settling of my bones,
The feeling of coming home

Stop the alarm, take your shoes
It’s time for your daily juice
Laugh and nod, grin and bear
Don’t forget to brush your hair

Lock your door, draw the blinds
It's ok to want to stay inside
Run the water, mute your cries
Sometimes it feels better to lie

Close your eyes, take your meds
Replaying all the words you never said
Always wishing, always praying
A heart full of hope and a head full of dread

drunk off nostalgia
warm, tanned skin
always hungry, ready to sin

smoke in our lungs
passion all over your tongue
all dressed up, the taste of ***

queen of spades, frozen lemonade
sad eyes and feeling strange
you say we got it made in the shade

nothing is ever as it seems
not you, not me
was it all a dream?

angry fists I no longer miss
not your grip, not your kiss
just drunk off nostalgia
hard not to reminisce

You must remind yourself of the reasons you left
You are a cinematic masterpiece on repeat
You are not to keep your thoughts quiet
Just a single breath and you could conduct a whole orchestra
He planted his forbidden fruit and asked you to grow
Your ripeness and colors overflowed his garden
He ****** you dry and left you to wilt
You will grow again in richer soil

You brought me roses every sunday and kissed me on the forehead
“My future wife, love of my life” there’s not a card I haven’t kept
I don”t know what exactly happened or how you slipped away
but my heart is missing it’s home
So when you find your way, you know the only path
love letters & roses every Sunday, please
I'll dust off the welcome mat