the very thought of your face
was erased the very day you said
((I was fine with the end.))
but I hardly appreciate the aftermath dry skin from your wind
of this tropical depression
colors of life that cause pain
but are so appealing to our sinful nature.
mascara running from your cold,
heartless words raining on me...
dry skin from your wind
take a picture, my body heals quickly
remember what you did although
your name has already been forgotten...
along with the colors of your face.
let rain pour from your lips
porcelain lies, shattering on asphalt
eventually evaporated by the sun.
((stop talking to me))
I don't know you anymore.