i know her dress,
the one she wore,
when he killed me,
for the last time.

it was banana colored,
scoop neck,
all leg,
beautiful like her.

i always have too much hope,
and i think that's fatal.
i get drunk on an idea,
why do i hope things with no proof.

is it weird that i still remember the feel of his hair,
gliding between my fingers.
when you pulled on his curls, they sprung back into place.
that was my heaven.

im weak,
to be honest.
i fall into myself too often,
it seems.

where life goes,
i die.

her dress haunts me,
and that's absurd.
i remember how it twirled,
away with him.

he looked me in the eyes,
and it killed me.
and i think i've been a dead girl walking
ever since.

feeling too much
that's an understatement.
i feel so much that it seeps out of me,
i can't control it.

her dress was banana yellow,
and my tears tasted like salt water.