You can be the kama, the black light in the bar
Angel on my left shoulder blade above the scar
Heels off in the kitchen; phone, dead and in the car
I feel just fine, I'm just wary of the dark
Wrapped in your bed just like scraps in your book
You relayed good and bad days; I quietly shook
"Kissing. My favorite. Did I mention he was tall?"
All this in a backyard in a photo on a wall
You can be the silence that rips into my head
A promise-coated drill bit next to me in bed
I yearn to hate your valence pulling me in like a thread
But caught; wingless, buzzing, I hate myself instead
I'll wake up with the sun up and you sitting in my skull
Looking keen, as you Steve McQueen a ball against the hull
Fret not, I'm a hypocrite under all my purple blood
And it looks like I'll have years to learn to ignore the thud
You can be the silence that rips into my head
A promise-coated drill bit next to me in bed
I yearn to hate your valence pulling me in like a thread
But caught, wingless, buzzing, I hate myself instead
Came twice with an arched back in the car park in the rain
A quart low on hormones, nails clawing into my brain
I hate when Love and Hate love to manifest the same
But caught; wingless, buzzing, I embrace your fangs