It started when she stopped writing.

Free falling, she twirled through the O's
of cigarette smoke passing her lips
Looking twice, three, five times
She knew.
With one foot out the door,
she loosened her grip on me
Slowly sinking lower while letting me go.

My eyes couldn't bare to see the sight
of a soulless and reckless girl replacing her,
and I spared myself the trouble
of trying to save either one.

She wrapped herself in the dirty deeds the night left with her
and always knew she could crash into Mary's arms.
The critters under the steps heard her screams
And the staircases knows all of their explicit loveless daydreams.
You could cut their tounges with a knife
But the taste of the party is still lying on their lips

And the night just never began for it to ever stop.

As I turned away for a moment
My head twisted, and I saw that one foot out
from summer breeze to winter freeze
She never fell on her knees.

I don't miss her anymore,
Because that summer breeze
just isnt the same as it was.

It started when she stopped writing.