Late Night Cycles

Teach me how to forget him
As easily as I forgot myself
I don’t even remember yesterday girl
Was she something like fire?
Are ashes all that’s left of her?
But I don’t see any phoenix feathers littering her graveyard
Where she slated those opportunities trying to catch what she couldn’t hold
Faltering
Slipping
Tomorrow is a problem
She already knows she’s going to trip on
Falling asleep in the arms of mistakes
And their lonely hearts
Put your hands under her shirt
That’s how she’ll forget you
And be reminded of him again
Over and over
Now it’s raining those feathers
The ones she keeps swallowing
Trying to engulf herself in second
Third
Fourth
Chances
Swing and miss
Just keep your hands under her shirt
It’s the only time she can pretend
She doesn’t remember