it was a lie
the day i left my heart on the floor
for you to leave
would the feeling have been annual
was adjust perennial
i thought you would finally enter in
then out the left temple of my adolescence
yet you sit standstill cowboy shoot off
banging in a memory in the middle
of life's many wonders
it was mistaken
the cools of a worn wood finish table
had there been an okay to launch the hanger
for you to take the hope of a spring's wilting loser flower
as your own
if gone wind could burn
why is it that the every atom of this
overkill combusting body seem to
explode when i think about you?
