Summer raining on the Eastern seaboard
I liked you better before November, personally
There are metal shards floating in this bathwater
Their own tiny islands of pain
A mirror in shards face up on the floor
Guess that is just another 7 years of bad luck
Pennies are dropping into the bathtub
Copper going plink plink plink
Tiny rivulets running their paths
That's just the sound of my lifeline going down the drain, again
Smells like metal and tastes like pain
Red river gushing from my veins
Locked door trying to staunch the flow of secrets
Head swimming to the tile floor
clink clink clink
Scars these days open so easily
Like the Raven said, Nevermore