cigarettes after lies

cigarettes lying on the floor,
broken heart lying out open,
I wonder to pick up
the cigarettes or
the pieces of my heart.
She promised,
"Never let a guy in between"
She left me on seen.
After all,
Pretty boy is important
than pretty friendship.

We're all stuck in love triangles.
Aren't we?
Or maybe hexagon, pentagon, octagon,
Hit my head with a gun
Pretty please?
I like her,
She likes someone else,
he is my friend
Bummer,
that someone else likes her back.

And as I hold my cigarette
with a better grip
then our little filthy trip
and our friendship
hanging like a pendulum
back and forth
like the flow of drumsticks
and my heart, the drums,
beats without any rhythm.

May be Two friends are not supposed
to kiss their lips

We talked about this
so you lied on a daily basis
thinking I'll never find out about it.

The idea of you pressing
your lips against his
is still a scream in my head,
reason for the teardrops on my bed.

Just know,
When you're done lying,
I'll be Ross fine.