I painted my fingernails when you left
A pinkish-tint of la-la-la.
I polished my heart, I tried to scrub it clean,
but your fingerprints are indelible -
or so it seems.
I'll go cherry picking when the season comes
but for now I'll just be still,
lulled to sleep with the transition of us to me;
I wonder why the varnish doesn't chip,
even after all this time?
Maybe it hasn't been long...
It wasn't even a kiss goodbye.
No comments:
Post a Comment