I've Never Cried Over Fireworks

1. i hadn't second guessed buying pre-ripped jeans until i flew across America and my cousins asked how many times I had fallen before I got there.

   
   i ordered a new heart last Monday. (It won't arrive 'till late november 'cause my two year contract of loving you isn't up yet.)

   
   i knew i'd come back again, i always do, so I made a special request to have it ship pre-broken.

   
   

   

   
   

   

   
   

   its been months since i thanked God for jeans, cousins, florida humidity, and you. I learned in church that you're supposed to thank God for everything.

   
   even if you aren't thankful for it.

   
   i'm so naive. i see headlights in the distance and think they're angels. & there's this one lamppost by my house and i swear it only turns on when i drive by. 

   
   and on the fourth of july i didn't watch one second of soccer.

   
   all i could think about were your arms. i couldn't stop thinking about that grayish green hat you always wore on the weekend, and the night you let me drive all the way home from the passenger's side. You didn't think we'd make it. 

   
   

   But we did.  

   
   

   i spent 2 hours getting ready, and the only thing you complimented were my eyes.
   

   
   

   
   as if you knew their waterless beauty wouldn't last.

   
   

   

   
   

   
   

All I've Got Left Are Mispelled Words & an Unidentified Keychain

I hope one day I'm prettier.

You always turn things around so you look better. You murdered me and somehow made it my fault. 

We only experience dying once and it's not like I can just google how it feels. 

But I'm assuming it's nice. 

Because the ones who knew never came back.