Keep writing he screamed as I looked down at the page, don't ever think about stopping he cried, as if my words were his savior and he was being nailed to the cross.
Your mother would be angry with the way I made you yell the Lord's name in vain.
But she has to appreciate the way you say amen after you reach in the dark to put your pants back on.
She looks at me like I was born on the wrong side of the tracks, what she doesn't know is I'm just a train, I'm only passing through darling.
And I stopped.
Why are you stopping, why do you think it's okay to string me with your words without punctuating us? HOW He yelled to the world, and I swore my grandmas swung in her grave, rubbed the goosebumps off her shoulders and shook her head at the choices I've made.
And tears smeared my lines and your name blurred into mine, it looked so natural, being intertwined in you.
Please, stop, your words are never enough and he left.
Come back home I whispered, but you had sacrificed yourself for a cause that never made sense.
You wanted love in the sense of drowning in her voice and trailing your fingers across her spine, but I hated my back rubbed and my voice is made of words that don't make sense.