Bakefast At Piffany's

Love is bleaching

bed sheets,

because we could never wait.

Love is seeking

bare feet,

phone calls from other states.

Love was

loved ones,

love was

loved once.

Well do you

still forget to

brush your teeth?

Cause you’re too caught up in

the morning;

each eyes peel,

peer into pores,

change of breathing wakes each other up.

Now it’s cold air,

nobodys laying there,

checking my phone

and going back to sleep.

I sleep in a bed and home that we made

but I'm left alone with your scent on pillow sheets.

Rearranging furniture to forget my past mistakes,

covering up the walls in an attempt to create

something that will make me forget who you've become,

something that will make me forget what you've lost.

And now it’s new meaning

into inanimate objects,

working towards better health

or just longer breaths to kill more time.

Count the seconds,

count the heartbeats,

count the messages,

count the lack of replies.

People we loved

hurt us

and we make up excuses

to tell ourselves they had to,

and that it’s all okay

and that they mean well,

but why?

I'm going to start doing what I want to do,

I'm going to start getting selfish.