There was this girl on the sidewalk
and I fell in love with the way
she accentuated her vowels
and the way she smoked
She ripped out my heart
She collects broken things

Among my ribcage and other things
my insides splattered on the sidewalk
She cradled my heart
in her bloody hands and made her way
destroying her lungs with smoke
and accentuating her vowels

The emphasis on her vowels
and all her broken things
She was always smoking
Standing on the sidewalk
The poison of her love made its way
into my bleeding heart

But it was not my heart
anymore. I asked her to say all the vowels
a...e...i...o...u...sometimes y, I loved the way
she took all the broken things
and wiped my blood off the sidewalk
and took out another pack of smokes

There’s always going to be smoke
before a fire. Always a heart
more broken than mine, beating on the sidewalk
was a heartbeat with accented vowels
the most broken among the things
Then I understood why she lived that way

I fell in love with her ways.
When she put down the smoke
the collection of broken things
grew like the emptiness in her heart
I listened to the vowels
and counted cracks in the sidewalk

I loved the way her heart
needed smoke, I remember the vowels
and the broken things, and bled out on the sidewalk