how fickle

i kissed him like i was leaving for work
i did not turn back as the car pulled away

for two weeks i cried enough to save all the farms across the Simpson
the salt of my tears wore the grease from the grills

Patrick told me to keep my chin up
and Jo told me to never go backward

so i went up
and away

and now all i can do is write you letters
and remember the smell of you in the morning

how fickle this thing love is