the lovedrunk cowgirl

the smoke I stole from your lungs 

stopped my breathing.

I remember you well

but mostly I remember you leaving.

then came the house fire.

you know that one, don’t you? 

I remember.

I always remember-

just like I did last night

when the moon looked at me

and bled.

red.

in another life I would have met you in a forest fire-

one that made the sun feel small.