You draped this mantle round my shivering shoulders, tied it tightly to my neck. Kept the cold out and the anxiety in. You birthed a bouquet of depression, and you fill my vase every chance you get. Kept the cold out and the anxiety in. Bestowed upon me this token of toting your baggage around.

If I could be on the brink, I’d be on the edge of you. ******* down from the high, height. Steepened with deepened strokes.

I hope he gives you the future he promised me in pink

If I fill myself with worry I’ll be weightless, drift away with glass eyes and a timber temperament. They call it bipolar, I call it drifting north. I’m afraid of heights

I’d close my book, pick the prettiest font for The End. Dust to dust

I thought about swinging from the rafters, shakey knees and creaky floorboards. Shaken mothers and crying kids. A rope to pillow my descent.

I finger myself to your words. Touched by yours truly, truly touched by yours