4 pm looks bad on this saturday's
frame
it's hot and humid
and the cicadas cry
sounds of roasting pain
and i'm on the
cold white tiles
lying on the bathroom floor
mess of hair
glasses upturned.
this is another one
this is another one
and i can't anymore
it feels like i've
been doing this since i was born
the salt swells
the skin of my cheeks
i know now this demon
is nowhere near
slain
and i can't anymore
but i will
cause this demon ain't dying
but i'm still trying
heading for a place
like a heavenly home
and i'll take it
there, drag it
if i have to
i'm taking my beast to
a place
beautiful and strong
and once i'm there
he can suffer
he can enter
the dagger to his chest
for all i care
'cause i'm heading there