Dm.

Loving himWould be the greatest thingI was never allowed to do.

Splinters.

I was nearly newWhen i started feeling youSlip through my fingersBut I kept looking throughEvery bit of you that lingers.-and, like having one, or twoSplinters(I saw no issue)In your split nervesOr the fewTimes you stayed-So I let you grow intoThese decayed tendrils,Who are blue,GrayedAnd cut through;If only to be conveyedAs someone whoWouldn't gut you too.

Deeper hits

I swallowed my spineChokedAnd joked how I was fine.(I'm used to deeper hits than this)Like lilac bruises down my back-Or hisHands,PeriwinkleAnd black.

Spiral.

Puffing upI'm thinking AboutThe funeralAnd loving your ghostIn this infernalWay.I never should haveSet my praisesInto you.But I was so into youSo determinedI'd have died instead-And things were never(Meant to be)This deadEnded endeavor-And maybe I was clumsy,Tripping over you;But it was so comfy(The way that I would bruise)And sometimes I think because of meYou're goneLike the [...]

Body weight.

I don't care if nothing stops hurtingI grew up with youKnowing your momentary flirtingWas the trueEpitomeOf tooLittleToo late.But fuck if I don't miss your giggle,And feeling your body weight.

In the mud.

He makes me illWith his repetitive quips-Its like he has spilledAll that he sipsNever caring if it is distilledOr from someone elses lips;He'd have killed(Me)Till dripsOf bloodDid flipsAnd went thud-Like whipsIn the mud.Cause with meHe swore he was witnessingSome great horrorLike my sickening state of existenceMade him look for more,Or less tenseOf a woman.

Loving you most.

DeathIs thick, and moroseLike the last breathOf an overdose-And what's leftBut me, loving you most.

Crawl.

HeFound me in a bottleAfter weBought allOf the shelves.(And what a crawl)Was the war on ourselves.

Space between.

Stupid green catastrophesIn unseen formatsAnd I am the space betweenThe bath matsAnd as for mathI've amassedToo many brittle tendonsTo count.But i still defend them(My perfect mistakes)If only for the bit of wisdomI acheNay, yearnTo understand.

Wild, rage.

Sweet virginTastes likeSome versionOf waste I'dSubmerge in.But some urge inMy insatiable smileTold me not to stayWhileYou stray.And I'llAdmitTo wildPitsOf filed rageBut it'sSomething I've reconciledWith.