She smiles and its bittersweet
the way her eyes and lashes meet

She's pretty when she cries like this
telling him all the things she'll miss
And how he broke her down one day
a misplaced quote, the edges frayed.
She's broken now but feels it mending
when this whole catastrophe reaches its ending
and she sits and she hugs herself,
ribs and self-loathing.
She stares at her makeup,
face, wrinkled clothing.

Who is she really?
A dot on the map.
A speck of denial
to put up with this crap.

She's made her choices,
and you've made your retort.
One last phone call.
One last report.

She means it when she says goodbye,
and spins on busted, bleeding heel.
She's at her prettiest in this light,
walking away and building a shield.

She leans in close before she goes,
and whispers with ash-ed breath,
"Now you get to watch me walk away,
I'm as serious as death."

She calls him rockstar one last time,
and he calls her gorgeous too,
she instantly reaches for a comfort zone,
and swears to "find another you."