Independent variable

she said, and I quote, I broke your little heart

why do you still smile

sweetie, you're the variable

do Goths wear black after labor day

she walked away, nothing to say

in a crowd of smokeless faces

 

I need you like fire needs ice

like gas needs price

your smile, a smoke and mirrors trick

your kiss, a sloppy drunken Mick

I am deficient in pride to tell you why

you broke my glow and left me dry

you lack the shame to apologize

nothing but cubic zirconium diamonds in your eyes

 

 I once searched Central America

for your love

found only cholera and impoverished smiles

happy faces with little to hold but hope

we have so much, them so little

but really, we have nothing