given space when he's gone theres a twisting in my veins a panicked sort of itching like under the table in the dining room in the dark where she'd lock me like in the closet in the day where i'd hide like on the bed tangled in sheets i wet with my tears praying that they wouldnt split up because their bitterness is all i know like falling, for so long, it feels like forever --except you have the knowledge that it isnt that you'll hit is he lying? this points to yes i just twist around the sign in the fork of the road until nobody knows where to go and its all the same and i can walk without knowing better oh God, is he lying? why? does he know how cruel it would be? would he care? does he care? i dont care. i just dont want to hit, |