Gatlina

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i have a friend named Gatlina.

she has music in her head

and love in her heart

and she laughs like she rides the wind,

but she loses herself whenever she wakes up

and i'm no longer in bed.

she has bullets behind her teeth

that stain her tongue dark, dark black

and she has thick brown eyes that 

reflect the emotion she lacks,

and her fingertips are sharp when they meet my skin

and tell me things that she can't take back.

her tongue is made of softness

when she tangles it with mine,

but it becomes full of rough edges

when she loses her mind

and forgets where she is

and forgets that she's fine.

her words only sting

when she throws them at me,

like she is a rock and i am a tree

and she is on top and i'm underneath

and it's her last line of defense

'cause she's weaker than me.

her hands like to shake

when the dreams pull her down

and poison her mind 'til she's thrashing around

and fighting the fear that's a part of her now

'cause she can't make it leave

'cause she doesn't know how.

she is not her broken pieces, but her mind won't let her see.

i have a friend named Gatlina

and i'm trying to help her live,

but my words never work

and she can't find my eyes

and she only responds to my kiss.

so i don't know what to do with Gatlina

'cause i don't want to leave her behind,

but maybe we'll both sit with cracks in our brains

and i'll distract her with the unbroken skin of my thighs,

and she'll forget that she's broken and i can't be her glue

and i'll be the only thing on her mind.


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