when I saw you
my heart lept into my throat
and so I leaned over and spit it out.
Right there on the sidewalk;
I missed the grass so it splattered on concrete.
And I don't cry at funerals anymore--
there's too much to do, too many estranged relatives to comfort.
so I'll escape to some closet
and draw out the saltwater with a pipette,
stolen from my 8th grade chemistry class.
Sometimes to be numb is to be comfortable
But my friends are drawing away
and so maybe this is the blissful ignorance I was warned of;
funny how I thought that was about politics.
May 7
May 7, 2026 at 11:20 PM UTC
when I saw you
my heart lept into my throat
and so I leaned over and spit it out.
Right there on the sidewalk;
I missed the grass so it splattered on concrete.
And I don't cry at funerals anymore--
there's too much to do, too many estranged relatives to comfort.
so I'll escape to some closet
and draw out the saltwater with a pipette,
stolen from my 8th grade chemistry class.
Sometimes to be numb is to be comfortable
But my friends are drawing away
and so maybe this is the blissful ignorance I was warned of;
funny how I thought that was about politics.