Bakefast at Piffany's

Love is bleaching
 bed sheets,
 because we could never wait.
 Love is seeking
 bare feet,
 phone calls from other states.
 Love was
 loved ones,
 love was
 loved once.
 Well do you
 still forget to
 brush your teeth?
 Cause you're too caught up in
 the morning;
 each eyes peel,
 peer into pores,
 change of breathing wakes each other up.
 Now it's cold air,
 nobodys laying there,
 checking my phone
 and going back to sleep.
 I sleep in a bed and home that we made
 but I'm left alone with your scent on pillow sheets.
 Rearranging furniture to forget my past mistakes,
 covering up the walls in an attempt to create
 something that will make me forget who you've become,
 something that will make me forget what you've lost.
 And now it's new meaning
 into inanimate objects,
 working towards better health
 or just longer breaths to kill more time.
 Count the seconds,
 count the heartbeats,
 count the messages,
 count the lack of replies.
 People we loved
 hurt us
 and we make up excuses
 to tell ourselves they had to,
 and that it's all okay
 and that they mean well,
 but why?
 I'm going to start doing what I want to do,
 I'm going to start getting selfish.