king of rats mediumship, situationships dreams showing me your daily slips your kiss with her, your lips on his your hands on him, your striptease pretty please you begged me pretty please you strung me along all along, declined your calls thank god, he had some sense thank god, I never sent that text thank god, I let it drift off into the ocean nature will take its course, I will heal my corpse writing stories until my dreams show me the next thing, my next path I will align, I build an altar, a waft crossing the waters, no knife in my back
I asked you if you would stay with me, And you said "maybe," Before taking out a silver knife. With a smile, you plunged it into my chest, And I smiled back.
I continued to smile When we would walk together. We watched the people stopping to stare, As more and more of them would inquire. I would gladly show off the craftsmanship, Such as the way the engravings in the handle Would wind round and round like a supple vine.
Finally the last day came. I knew it would, but I expected it sooner. You politely pulled out the knife And waved your goodbyes. I waved back, Happy that I could finally dispose of my corpse.