There is a boy in me determined not to live,
Determined to be sick,
He claws and rages against my insides,
My very own soft animal,
I know,
I know,
I know,
What we have is temporary,
And meeting it with the most undying love,
Is the only answer I’ll get,
But he’s hurting me, and god,
Do I want to take a handful,
Of that hair and
Make him understand I have power.
But the boy is me,
And looking in,
At the scene,
All you see is a flailing emulsion of flesh,
Hell bent on purifying itself,
No,
No,
Meeting it all with the most undying love.
Draft, really - but I’m too lazy to artfully construct it