A song for the person I haven't spoken to in a month.
WIP 10.5.26
I would like to call you but it’s 2:47 and
I reckon that it would just break break break my heart again
The last time that we spoke was for nine minutes twenty nine days ago
I sat on the couch, you pulled at teeth until I cried about
The artist from that show in August — he just fucking died
I don’t remember your reaction only the impact of your action
I didn’t wanna say it but you forced my mouth wide
And you know just how to take a knife and drill into my bug bites
Is screaming vulnerabilities the only way we know how to speak?
If I am still my mother’s daughter place your bets on how much longer I will keep destroying everything
And it’s a sad thought if I’m honest, it’s a sad tale if you want it — we still retell Grecian tragedies
If I am still my mother’s daughter I should take it one step farther
Cuz someone needs to cut the roots of this tree — shouldn’t it be me?