Shooting Stars

If I could catch shooting stars on my tongue
Instead of snowflakes,
The fire you breathe wouldn't burn me,
The oxygen in the air
Would no longer fuel your false words,
And you'd tuck your tail between your legs
And every shot I cast back
Would be a bullet you ate.
Wait 'till it rains, go stand in my pain,
Every tear drop-acid in your veins,
But you wouldn't be high,
You'd wish to die,
You'd say you're fine, but I see you.
You have no idea, this is how I feel.

A.H.