*Stay in bed
Sometimes turning to my right
Until I close my eyes*
I feel my face turn moonlight silvering with tears, midnight. You're off to Boston, he's off to sleep, I'm off to the last time I remember seeing my dead old friend's face, his veiny arms, my unknowing.
I can feel my heart settle into a place in my chest, not occupied for the better part of a week. I've been distracted, making choices that will probably **** me in a month's time.
*Cause when I came home
I’d lost thirty something pounds*
I think of your little nose, scarred legs, tiny laughter shaking your tiny body on this tiny Earth in this tiny space we exist in.
The space we exist in. I think of how small of a box I am contained to. My fingertips will never reach further than I can see.
*And I won’t be nice to anyone
Because I don’t see why I should
I don’t see the point*
No amount of tears will bring him back, that blood was stilled a long time ago. No amount of my effort matters anything because you're too many months ahead of me, too many heartbeats away, too many lives into it.
I just pick up and drop people like peaches- bruised, unholy sweetness, ripe. I bite my own tongue until it is bubble gum. I want to be a better person.
I've been working on it. I think you're getting me there, somehow, someway.
*I won’t, I won't get clean
For the rest of my life
I won’t be nice*
Dec 9, 2016
Dec 9, 2016 at 12:23 AM UTC
*Stay in bed
Sometimes turning to my right
Until I close my eyes*
I feel my face turn moonlight silvering with tears, midnight. You're off to Boston, he's off to sleep, I'm off to the last time I remember seeing my dead old friend's face, his veiny arms, my unknowing.
I can feel my heart settle into a place in my chest, not occupied for the better part of a week. I've been distracted, making choices that will probably **** me in a month's time.
*Cause when I came home
I’d lost thirty something pounds*
I think of your little nose, scarred legs, tiny laughter shaking your tiny body on this tiny Earth in this tiny space we exist in.
The space we exist in. I think of how small of a box I am contained to. My fingertips will never reach further than I can see.
*And I won’t be nice to anyone
Because I don’t see why I should
I don’t see the point*
No amount of tears will bring him back, that blood was stilled a long time ago. No amount of my effort matters anything because you're too many months ahead of me, too many heartbeats away, too many lives into it.
I just pick up and drop people like peaches- bruised, unholy sweetness, ripe. I bite my own tongue until it is bubble gum. I want to be a better person.
I've been working on it. I think you're getting me there, somehow, someway.
*I won’t, I won't get clean
For the rest of my life
I won’t be nice*
God, please don't leave
