I’ve got a mosaic heart made of red and black tile,
the black is hard carbon and the red is fragile.
Its honest words get filtered through my tongue
and turn to lies as I compromise a speed dial.
The whiskey made you miss me by the threads that were sewn,
but I’ve grown to own those days you spent alone on your phone.
A pocket full of memories and a mind full of bones,
a part of my heart hard carbon and sinks like a stone.
Red linens in the pantry, red fever of love.
Green stop signs, red drive lights; red clouds up above.
I read books with white covers as my lovers discovered unarmed,
my mosaic heart part red and the scars on my arms.
Her hands pushed me away,
I left her sitting on her hill.
She watched from a distance
as I sang in the valley-
“Don’t fear the hour you left me for the hour is gone,
my best friend Evan Williams is driving me home.”