from bed, slow thoughts 

destined to be squished face pressed on glass i stood on my head but that didn’t last eating whatever concoction you make if you’re willing to give i’m willing to fake the words that pound in my head at three in the morning i’m lying with dread it couldn’t come soon enough these wrinkled line moments if you could flip over we could atone this it isn’t that i lost you and the rest a feast of passengers pounding my chest ripping through my best yet you can’t have it i’m a total mess if i wore those frills the ones that thrill i may have to silently sneak in and kill a slice of your arm then right for the toe you’d drain while i tried to finally show that not even a death will provide the answer to springtime blooming with flus and cancer 

leave july alone it’s frustrated by last year and if we mention this way again 

i’ll never forget that you let me in, this is how i repay you. 

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