It'll be another month of missing three.
Did you find the errors?
Your words sting from your unopened mouth.
My hands bleed as my nails grow into them, still refusing to let go.
Everyday dresses up as a chance and by midnight it kicks off it's shoes.
I still sing your name in my sleep and wake up to the butterflies begging to get out.
They are withering all too slowly.
Their feeder took the year off and left no sweet nectar or nothings.
And now you believe that things have somehow gotten better.
For you, I will always smile at your face.
For me, I will cry to your picture.
Your skin hangs like a coat in my closet and haunts me during the winter season.
My bones are weak and blowing away.
My stomach turns constantly like a cement mixer that I would love to watch pour.
If no one was watching, I would draw our names inside of a heart.
I could impress you with just one more chance.
Close the bedroom door.
Turn off the lights.
I still ache for you.
