I pluck up blades of grass, splitting them ‘till there’s nothing left, and I feel a weight on my tongue, like that left from too much peanut butter. My mouth is stuck and I’m choking on my own saliva, and I’ve had one helluva week, so please don’t talk to me.
Please don’t go away though, because I’m finding it hard to let go of you and me, and me and you. It’s kind of sticky, like bubble gum stuck in the hair, this feeling won’t come out, and I won’t go in my own house anymore ‘cause it’s not a home and I don’t know where I’m going, but I know it’s not here.

Discordant notes hit my ears
as I place headphones over them
Punk rock is as good as it gets
When you’re angry
as a rabid bear who hasn’t eaten
in about three months
and it’s been about three weeks
since you left me
and I want to be angry
but I love you too much
to say I hate you
when I know that you’re just
Discordant notes that hit my ears
as I place headphones over them
‘cause punk rock
is as good as it gets
When you can’t be angry
at someone you once loved