slow walk back from sprinting up her block. sweaty palms and holes in my socks.
she looks concerned but don't know my last name.
at this point i guess its all the same
just need a place to hang my hat and head she draws my bath and she goes to bed
sometime later this'll mean so much. now feel distant feeling out of touch.
don't draw that bath, don't bring the phone
turn on the stove and make it snow
i need some schnapps and hot chocolate
id call this pain but i cant feel shit.
'im afraid that if you cum you'll cry'
i kiss her chest and pray to god she's right
it doesn't work and i fall asleep shock and panic
fight between these sheets
now i'm at Cyrano de Bergerac feeling returns in the second act
cloaked by dark and bad poetry i find my body lying next to me.
don't draw that bath don't bring the phone
turn on the stove and make it snow
hide the pabst in vladimir's drawer the
bathrooms clean will you get off that floor
i need a drink will you please stand up
we'll cross your street and go get fucked up
the bathrooms clean will you please stand up