part 1, part 2
part 1: horror
i loved her, but oh my god,
it was so, so bad.
we were the campfire stories in the middle of the woods
that was us, and that’s what we stood for;
that was our fucking church, our sanctuary.
it was like scream; the way i was terrified of my telephone.
scared to hear your voice, but hoping for it all the same.
i was hearing you weep like you wanted to drown
i would sit by the telephone and curl my fingers around the cord,
and tug, tug, tug.
if i left it my chest would ache and my stomach would roll,
and not too long after i would’ve picked all the skin off my lips.
i would have bitten all the callouses on my hands off,
and pulled out so many eyelashes my eyes would tear up.
i looked at it like a rom-com,
when it was a goddamn horror.
part 2: tragedy
here’s a story i can’t stand and won’t ever forget,
and one you better not either:
she was drowning in tar, so i tried to peel it off.
when i couldn’t, i tried washing it off.
and when i couldn’t do that, i tried eating it off.
i was drowning in tar, so she tried to peel it off.
when she couldn’t, she tried washing it off.
and when she couldn’t do that, she tried eating it off.
i loved her, she loved me.
she was insane, i was insane.
we were insane and we were in love.
i saw all the red flags in pink,
she saw all the red flags in pink.
we saw the red flags in pink.
we saw red as pink.
the blood was red; we said it was pink.
we were red; we thought we were pink.
i woke up on a hospital bed.
i thought it was a marriage bed.
she woke up on a hospital bed.
she thought it was a marriage bed.
we woke up on hospital beds.
we thought they were marriage beds.
but then they took our blood and it was red.
oh my god, it was so, so red.
