Can’t help to think about it when my future publisher asks if I’m okay
Why did I move to Missouri?
Why did I leave my California dreams? What should I say? Even though I’m depressed, I still have a roof over my head and everything that I want now , but I don’t want it anymore and I’m not working at an unappreciative job at a hospital anymore I should just smile and wear out the obvious.
For when a man doesn’t even listen to the diamonds I leave on the table at dinner.
Can’t help to think about the time an Andrew almost laid my body to soon in it’s grave at the feel of blacking out in the tip toe corners of an unsheathed belt
When a man doesn’t listen but is gone for all eternity
When phone calls of “hello, I miss you” turn into disruptions.
Can’t fucking grasp it when the idea of laying in a Santa Monica wasteland moaning to your touch made me feel like I am taking life for granted when all life has done was build skyscrapers on top of my mountains
When you said, ” I love you” I think of all the gods that failed me
Even my scorn mother of hell promised me yet her god wanted to kick the demon out of me yet she was the one that allowed that leech to enter.. Into my body, my spirit, sex shaming me in front of thrones, and spake me a liar above all the years of her absence.
Can’t even fathom a fortress in 10 years cuz I almost tied the bricks to the life to go deep down I the ocean at 19 years old with a bottle of melatonin crowns.
When he says the reprisal doesn’t even make sense but communication is non existent like a stoned witch…