Singing on Thursdays

Yesterday, I put up a booth, of both balloons and kisses
By the third bench, of that park, a few steps from the well of wishes.
That became, the place where I, puckered up for many strangers
Instead of, the fateful place, where we first met each other.

I visited, that scarlet shop, to change the way I looked
I asked for bangs, to hide the spot, you kissed when I was blue.
I let them cut, my lengthy curls, to inches, two or three,
In hopes that I forget, the gently way, you tucked behind my ear.

I bring with me, always a book, that needed to be held.
So my hand, won't look for yours, like a hollow empty shell.
And I have bought, a dozen scarves, to wraparound myself
So I won't miss, your arms, your breadth and the spicy way you smell.

I quit the smokes, and lost the rasp, you say you always liked
So when I speak, I will not hear, my voice calling you mine.
Always at night, I fall asleep, right down the very center,
So if I wake up, maybe I'll forget, how you held me during winter.

I sang alone, under that lightpost, while onlookers dropped their dimes,
That became, my first performance, instead of, our last goodbye.
Now I can barely, recognize, this girl that plays my part.
Its all a waste, despite these ways, I could not change my heart.