cotton blue skies
cigarette smoke clouds
parted lips;
but they spill blood
severed fingers that i'll swallow
indirectly
nervous eye contact
because my brain is a little skewed
you say you don't mind
but i know you do
bathroom tiles are my best friends
real friends hurt like [that]
i want to dissolve like pills in water
to dive into ice blue oceans
and sink down to you
chain me to the bottom
of your ribs