you speak about love as if it's the sky,
you look to it for answers,
to cure that hole in your chest.
do not walk around my block looking for the person who shot you when the gun was in your hands this whole time.

do not construct a haunted house out of my being
and tell the world i hexed you with my ignorance.
when you have been the ghost living in my hollow insides.
ready to commit ****** with your bare hands clenched around my neck.
you made the whole town watch,
fear drenched in the air,
so they would never come back without tasting those memories like blood in the back of their mouths.

i wonder if you knowing my insides were hollow made it easier for you to take up vacancy in my soul.
but you made everything i am into a two star motel room,
tore apart the room and the fines are still lingering in the air like you never touched me in the first place.

you thirsted on my blood like a tree's veins thirsting on the rains tears,
like you needed it to survive.
but don't you forget, my body was a church  before you let your ****** palms dance on the surface of my flesh,
and never cleaned up the mess.

so let your tongue vibrate against the roof of your mouth,
telling empty lies about
the reason you're bleeding.
you say you cut your hands on the broken glass fragments of my existence,
when you were the one who shot at every window i had left.