Freezer bride, your sweet divine
You devour like smoked bovine hide
How funny, I never considered myself tough
You're so handsome, walking over to me now
I tried to be good, am I no good?
Am I no good? Am I no good?
With my memory restricted to a Polaroid in evidence
I just wanted to be yours, can I be yours?
Can I be yours? Just tell me I'm yours
If I'm turning in your stomach and I'm making you feel sick. (Waiting to be cannibalised by my lover because it is the greatest honor and metaphor for love but also i struggle with religious trauma, i am so holy...how dare you, a sinner touch the divine? But also i am so cursed with beauty that when i die, i rot and flowers grow over it, the bees suckle the flower and make honey from it, my mother, my father they all eat it)