Trampling sunshine

There were things you said
that stay with me
although you asked me,
as you changed your mind
almost as it left the mouth,
to get rid of them.

Flush from ear number two
before the brain registers!

A little too late, my love.
A little too late.
A paper crumpled can't erase ink.

You left me high
and certainly not dry;
A little too deep, my love.
A little too deep...
where proof of love drips like nectar.

I hung on
to your every word
'cause they were the only things
worth hanging on to
at the edge of my pillow then
and for years after that,
always picturing you getting dressed
next to the door.

Tell me,
in the heat of the moment,
did lies lie to you
about not being lies?

A little too much lie, my love.
A little too much lie.