i guess this is writing???

leave me here

Heavy heart and ripped jeans

Even the idea of you makes it hard to breathe

Broken glass bottles and truck beds

Numb is the only synonym for your name

Balanced on late nights and shaking hands

The contents of her drinking soaking into the carpet

Only my anger seems to be as intense as her's

But never directed at anyone in specific

Her's seems to only surface around me

And hell

I know I can't seem to ever pick the right thing to say

For some reason

When it comes to her

Her hands

Her laugh

Her smile

Her voice

Her empty promises

Her mumbled words

Her shattered glass

I'm desperate to be able to solve the puzzle