ya throw fits at the mall
speak in a childlike voice
i hear delicacy in your dialect
but it's optimism, imagination
on my part, trepidation and mistaken
ya throw tantrums, spilled coffee
deforestation in my thought-tree
skinny love, drained in sinks
listening to that song
ya don't dig a whole lot
about him
but you drive your
pink nails in the sheets
it's probably why i can't escape you