we talked alot of shit, tired bruises from an hour or so before were speckled red where capilaries burst with no room for oxygen to smooth the colors into hues of blue and yellow.
down down stairs, i said it all
"i'm at my worst and i love you with your shirt full of spitup"
thirty something layers of grafitti on the bathroom stall, close, careful letters spun tight around my hips
how secure i am with being this offensive
how cavelier you've been about helping me wreck your lies, invade your home, pick at your lips
we talked alot of shit, bent over some dirty sink, put myself in a whiskey headlock and melted through the drain
you stood tall,a silent devil stroking a landmine
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