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press the start button -

the thing about people like you is

all these little coffin nails

bring the taste of red

to this wasteland love.

i saw right through it

but it wasn't you,

a disappearing act,

mathematics of the heart -

and i never wounded you, but

dreams &

feelings

still be sinking, &

they bleed ink.

for what it's worth, these

are easy tears,

this is where i want to be -

spot the lie, i'm a liar.

it stinks like rotten fruit.

a hill to live on,

a zoo of mistakes,

a little too familiar of a break,

just a romantic trying to do forensics.