Your words spill out like concrete coins. Jackpot. And I'm eagerly swallowing them whole. Like little paperweights grounding me to the present. Your honeycomb eyes burn money signs into the sun. Relentless. The stars shine the brightest in the day, and the moon smiles behind the trees. To you, goodbye is not just an idea but a lifestyle. Falling by the wayside, my stomach aches with the weight of your words smooth like jazz and thick like caramel. Incessant. My heart doesn't beat as fast as my lungs collapse and my mouth spits venom. Rifling through cluttered boxes in the back of my mind, your smile swoops in like a butterfly in May. But these memories are just rusted words now with neon lights half burnt out. The vacancy sign flashes a "NO" in front and the thought of you drives right by. And you, you speed off into a dust storm sunset. Tangling the tears of the last love in your windblown hair. Directionless.
