Never good enough

The wind is always blowing when you're blinking and behind your ice-blue eyes the night gradually falls through the horizon. You're sitting outside. The smoke of your cigarette embraces my scent and they become a cotton cloud. This doesn't fit us. I washed your touch off myself with honey-milk shower gel. We became a cliché. The Canal is silver today. You miss me every time when you're staring at the frigid sky and you see the soft condense-lines of every airplane. Self-lies. You think that you should have kissed the fear out of my soul before you choked me. It didn't work out. We are trampling in the mud as we always did when we saw each other. I unchain my legs from your body and I fall over the carmine leaves. Our body heat evaporates like the coffee steam in the morning. I was the wrong girl but deep inside you know that I can't be replaced. Dead people can't cry so just bury me in the rain.