maybe if she gets cancer, she'll remember him always.

5/2/2010.

he was new and undiscovered.
he was everything she knew she
shouldn't get herself into
[but she did anyways].
he asked to kiss her,
so she sucked down a cigarette
and tentatively kissed him goodnight.

it never crossed her mind that
there was something about his smile
that she just couldn't shake
[but god knows it was beautiful].
he stopped by one night only to say hi,
so she sucked down a cigarette
and tentatively kissed him goodnight.

she never imagined that she
would find herself underneath him,
their fingers laced and bodies entwined
[filling a void she never knew was there].
after, he climbed back out her window.
so she sucked down a cigarette
and tentatively kissed him goodnight.

this pattern repeated for weeks,
but he never held her hand
outside of her bedroom
[he was so afraid of commitment].
but she never resisted those visits,
so she sucked down a cigarette
and tentatively kissed him goodnight.

she knew there was something
off about his kiss that night,
knew there was something else
[or someone else]
on his mind that night.
so she sucked down a cigarette
and tentatively kissed him goodnight.

the visits began to dwindle.
she knew one day they would end.
she wished so desperately he wouldn't leave
[but who expected him to stay?].
the void ripped her to shreds,
so she sucked down a cigarette
and wished she could kiss him goodnight.

and then he was onto the
next thing, the next pretty girl
with eyes like the rainy sky
[or the ocean or maybe s**t].
so she wrote him an elegy,
sucked down a cigarette,
and told him goodbye.