
The radio aches a little tune that tells the story of what the night
is thinking. It’s thinking of love.
and leaving our bodies in a dumpster.



The radio aches a little tune that tells the story of what the night
is thinking. It’s thinking of love.






All night I streched my arms across
him, rivers of blood, the dark woods, singing
with all my skin and bone Please keep him safe.
Let him lay his head on my chest and we will be
like sailors, swimming in the sound of it, dashed
to pieces. Makes a cathedral, him pressing against
me, his lips at my neck, and yes, I do believe
his mouth is heaven, his kisses falling over me like stars.’


You’re falling now. You’re swiming. This is not
harmless. You are not
breathing.


I woke up in the morning and I didn’t want anything, didn’t do anything,
couldn’t do it anyway,
just lay there listening to the blood rush through me and it never made
any sense, anything.







There’s only one thing I want, don’t make me say it, just get me bandages,
I’m bleeding, I’m not just making conversation.



