I make you pancakes in the morning
Strawberries and whip cream
Just like my grandmother used to make
They call me the trash monster
Those tattoos of wings on your shoulders?
Those were the first two tattoos I ever stabbed into a person.
You were my first.
Remember I was the one who told you to pluck your eyebrows
How you cringed and refused.
plucked them the same direction
they were growing.
One by one.
So you wouldn't feel pain
I made you beautiful
They call me the trash monster
I paid for your world of Warcraft subscription.
I was at every birthday
your second mother
They call me the trash monster
My face is on national Televsion
Photographs of my living room.
The same one you woke up in every Saturday morning.
You wouldn't even recognise it.
Hidden beneath all of this spilt hourglass sand
So much between us now.
Prison bars
fast food shrapnel.
They call me the trash monster
A baby boy.
His little sister
Swimming in this filth
My depression hording
Their father left us for a 19 year old who lusted after his motor cycle
joined a gang
sells heroine
Left his autistic son and daughter
Taken now, my everything
From the nest
I was left to clean
They call me the trash monster
This filth
The broken wooden horse
The wax paper backs of sticker sheets.
The McDonald's bags n' grease
Scrapbooking strip cutters.
They call me the trash monster
Did you hear yet?
Do you remember me?
Did you throw me out?
Aug 10, 2017
Aug 10, 2017 at 12:39 AM UTC
I make you pancakes in the morning
Strawberries and whip cream
Just like my grandmother used to make
They call me the trash monster
Those tattoos of wings on your shoulders?
Those were the first two tattoos I ever stabbed into a person.
You were my first.
Remember I was the one who told you to pluck your eyebrows
How you cringed and refused.
plucked them the same direction
they were growing.
One by one.
So you wouldn't feel pain
I made you beautiful
They call me the trash monster
I paid for your world of Warcraft subscription.
I was at every birthday
your second mother
They call me the trash monster
My face is on national Televsion
Photographs of my living room.
The same one you woke up in every Saturday morning.
You wouldn't even recognise it.
Hidden beneath all of this spilt hourglass sand
So much between us now.
Prison bars
fast food shrapnel.
They call me the trash monster
A baby boy.
His little sister
Swimming in this filth
My depression hording
Their father left us for a 19 year old who lusted after his motor cycle
joined a gang
sells heroine
Left his autistic son and daughter
Taken now, my everything
From the nest
I was left to clean
They call me the trash monster
This filth
The broken wooden horse
The wax paper backs of sticker sheets.
The McDonald's bags n' grease
Scrapbooking strip cutters.
They call me the trash monster
Did you hear yet?
Do you remember me?
Did you throw me out?
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