He left A mark the color of red wine Zinfandel Placed high on cheek bone Directly under her left eye Such tears only bruising It further
I didn't mean to He simply stated
She left A note the color of resentment Charcoal Placed atop bedroom dresser Directly over her exiled contents Such emptiness only reinforcing It further
my ego stops me from acknowledging that good music exists outside of indie/rock. i try too hard to be different when in reality i'm jammin' out to american top 40