i
hold
grudges
like
my
mother
&
leave
first
like
my
father.

you had one job:
you had to read the ghosts
scary bedtime stories
to keep them docile,

but you fell in love,
and let them go.

i tied a cherry stem with my tongue
i fixed your tie with my eyes closed
but i couldn't quite tie you down
and that didn't **** me
or make me stronger,
but i would rather either of those happen
than spending the next year and a half
hiding in a grave i have come to know
as my own bedroom.

maybe i'm just balanced
perfectly, for the moment
until i lose my footing,
end up at the bottom,
while you're safe on the
other end of the rope.

maybe i have false confidence,
i thought you'd have to
show me the way
but i'm sick of always standing
in your shadow
i'm tired of your blown up ego
maybe i don't need you
at all.

i am made of sin,
you're the only innocent
god i believe in.