the dust settles on me -
two bottles, broken
drop me in the ocean with no anchor
because my sins will weigh me down
i never felt too comfortable in my own skin, and i have
you to thank for that.
i’ll shed it all off, anyway, in the morning light;
i’ll be a snake,
and when i slither out of what’s left of the old me
i’ll be secret, and i’ll be safe, and
i won’t be heard from again.