playing the tape through again and i can't tell if i need you more as a friend. i want you in any form i can take you.
heat it, spill out, crush, synthesize
men are a drug, and the high is unearthly.
i can get ninety days clean, easy.
but one day without you and im
shaking. sweating.
freezing.
opiate withdrawals are hell on earth
something ungodly. unspoken in shame
and resentment building.
but what about when i need you and you're busy?
i have never felt so needy. like a child again
and my dad is running out of patience. his hands grip the steering wheel, and i feel queasy. the earth is shaking
and the only thing grounding me is him.
i wish i was there for you as a kid.
feel like i knew you in a past life;
where the people drink like fish and barely sleep.
the odds are against us, but i've always loved a losing bet.
put your cards against the table and bluff like you do best.
when will i stop playing the tape over and over again; repeating the habitual self mutilation in the form of men who only want me when i'm crying? only want me when im kneeled over the drugs dying. you are a foxhole prayer; only with your hands in the air when nothing else will save us. nobody will pray for us.
