it is like
little blue men that **** the home out of your soul,
make it feel like a lonely hotel room.

it's the heartbeat of a worn out clock,
welcoming old songs and new forms of self destruction.

what do you do after you're young and invincible?
you kick and scream and crawl back into your mothers womb,

a woman who is as long dead and gone as the way you say your name
like each syllable has a nuclear weapon attached to it.
like it is an apology and a curse in one.

i am lost in the forest of my unrighteousness
i wish to be clean but hate the water.
let me wander in the lust and grief of my own tongue.
my soul will answer to it's master one day
carry me home,
carry me home.