I often confused the word love
They sounded the same to me
and I learned early on
That broken hearts are a crime scene,
That as long as they didn’t leave fingerprints
They could get away with murder.
And truth be told,
I think I’d prefer that,
As long as you leave the blood-splatter
Like a mural on the side of a building,
Leave my skin white against the pavement.
At least if I’m an organ donor,
Things could be painless for someone else.
Every time you said “I love you”
I thought about calling 911
I thought about all the warning signs-
The night you picked me up while I was crying,
The kiss we shared by the apple tree,
The way you looked at me when I didn’t run away,
The time you tucked me into bed when I drank half a handle of vodka and told you about the time my mother tried to hit me.
I should’ve known you were just
Ten stories down a skyscraper building
To tell me you loved me
I should’ve seen the bright yellow tape,
The chalk outlines.
I wasn’t careful enough,
(I should’ve run away)
I wasn’t scared enough
(Maybe I wanted to stay)
I didn’t care this time
If I ended up with a crime scene heart,
If my arteries were inked with your name,
If I fell ten stories right next to you.
We weren’t a story of caution
Or a story of love
We were the story of a criminal,
One who never ran.