Jesus Christ, girl. What are people gonna think? When I show up to one of several funerals, I've attended for Grandpa this week.
My little ribs around you. Cut into my sternum and set me on fire. I'm bleeding. Send me shivering, running into the graveyard at midnight. There is nothing left of me now.
Jesus Christ, girl. It hasn't been long so it seems. Since I was picking out an island and a tomb for you, at the Hollywood Cemetery.
Your kiss, on me.
You sent me flying from my skin. Mascara running, self-esteem smashed into little glass pieces on the apartment floor. I'm a hard woman to love.
Jesus Christ, girl. I laid up for hours in a daze. Retracing the expanse of your American back, with adderall and weed in my veins.
A vanity gone wild with crisis. I've got smoke in my lungs and a past life in the trunk.
But I'm unsure of so many things.
x