Monsoon mocktails and gray day clich s Scarlet sentiment in withered bouquets Slip from the world into the indigo sky Moonlight stains an evidence of goodbye.

Mascara tears and lipstick smears Burning bridges over broken piers The perfect portrait to smile behind Sepia escapades on our minds.

So if I m second only to the girl in the mirror,
I ll wave goodbye and then pull the trigger No bullet wounds, sad songs, or tainted innocence Because shards of glass are my only conscience.