We’ll just pretend that it isn’t what it is
that we don’t fall into
whatever you wanna call it and
we certainly would never
allow ourselves to be outsmarted
by love
you know
i’ve gone back to smoking
when you didn’t come back at all
but oh surprise
here we are
in a bar that still serves smokers
and your cheap vodka
still serves bitterness in fingerprint smudged glasses instead of salt lined rims
don’t even get me started on those
everything is a rim with you
a cusp on a fence
half in half out just as long as it’s not through
that goddammn middle
that easy-to-use destiny
but i guess a love-scarred mind
will do that to you