every november

it's been such a long time since i've been whole
lost somewhere along beer bottles and burnt out joints
little pieces of me are scattered on your bedroom floor
and you can still smell the stale stupidity in the air

two naive fools bound together and breaking apart
footprints of a long lost love imprinted within passion's bruises
matching my bloodied lips are scratches on your back
my lip gloss stains still on your neck

all the signs of heartbreak are clear for all to see
bite marks and blackened eyes, gnawed nails and parted thighs
blasting depressing music through broken stero speakers
and i can still hear angry footprints pounding towards the door

if you ever come back you'll see mascara stains on every cloth
cut up pictures with gaping holes where your face should be
and the bed that still has your scent on the sheets
your boxers and t-shirts still hang in my closet

but yes, we're over now, and it's time i face the truth
though it seems unreasonable now that i'm so used to the lies
i'll pick up all the fractured memories, stifle the still living past
and we'll still touch each other in dark corners in hidden rooms