lashes catch the angel dust,
Tongue sizzles on the sun
He was born to be a mockingbird
He was born without a gun.

What a trip.*
I spent its entirety
Eating anxiety
And smiling at my fears

Blue eyed secret keeper
He held me and was still my reaper
Tequila scythed, taking life with needy fever
I wanted you to love me.
but the broken cannot see.
It's turns out that love is not the only thing I need.

Darling, I am just a painter.
What more could you want?
There's no more that I desire
Than to watch these colours rot.

Take it out on me
So I can give it back
Let me blame you for my *******
While you use what I don't lack.

Your lonely poems used to be of comfort to me,
your new perspective on repeat
was guaranteed to make them bleed
but they're exactly what I need.

Your words are generic,
Your mouth- just a hole.
You can match every syllable
But you can't match this soul.