your love makes me want to eat my own flesh because i can't wash your fingerprints off my skin

i would've done anything for you
and i was like that jacket i bought for you
that you hung up and never wore again

you can't create a graveyard in my memories and not expect the biggest, boldest headstone and i'd rather chisel my eyes out than see your crooked teeth glaring at me and you know what? i'd wrap them in exquisite packaging and address it to you sincerely with a note attached that read "enclosed are all the visions i ever had of you and i"

i'd be like vincent van gogh
he had the right idea