Sometime between six and eight o’clock last night
You replaced my lungs with TV static
It crackles and fizzles and won’t let me sleep
Sending shivers and shocks though my body

At exactly 9 o’clock when you left me at my door
You placed a tiny pebble inside my throat
Constricting my words and my breath, and it won’t go away
Maybe you’ll take it away when I see you again

No, I do not take any drugs except bitter pills
I am not a heavy drinker except of tea and rain
I am not vaccinated against vulnerability (my mistake)
But if you would kindly remove the heart, I’ll be going then