You taught me how to smoke
When I look in the mirror I always see your shadow pass by.
When the high is high it feels like the lowest of lows.
I don't want to miss more of life
having days pass me by.
no more maybe.
Our second, sixth or third time to grieve
My heart is not a doorway for you to trespass,
You brought me low but I’m not low class
I said it too many times
I know
this is our final goodbye
last time you left me with bruises
the time before you broke my heart
Am I better off hunted by your bad habits
