When it rains it pours,
and when your frame
plays through the reel
behind my glossy eyes
there’s bound to be a storm.

I grow weary of dreaming
I’m floating on highs
exhausting every last one
of these stifled sighs

You’re the breath
caught in my sore throat
scratching and suffocating
I’ll hold my breath so I may choke

You never listened when I spoke