its always
strange
when new places
start to feel like home
and you've got holes in your
stalkings
holes in my lungs
where your words
filtered through me like
black smoke
with an intent to burn
and the ash is still on my tongue.
oh mother can you take away the poision
that consumes the waking hours
and the subconscious ones
cause he hurt me bad
and im a cracked teacup
leaking all over the window sill