Note: I'd really like some help on this one. It was hard for me to write, I'd like some advice please.

Once you were my girl.
You came back from the hotel
on your wedding night.
At the house, he held your hand,
sharing your cigarette.
I walked around the block with Joel and
stretched out on a damp lawn to look at the sky.
When we got back I was sick,
I couldn't find you.

I rested my forehead against the cool white
of the toilet bowl
and closed my eyes.
My heart jumped again and again
like red-hot feet dancing
on my chest.

Once you were my girl.
"We're leaving," you said,
your cool vanilla hair against my cheek.
I was too drunk to speak
or kiss you back before your mouth
left me.

Even now I hear you in empty rooms,
the echoes of the words
that we wasted.