treating it like it's a god-damn hobby liquids, like sickness, pass through my body am i never going to see the light? am i going to reach you tonight?
praying to the patron saint of lost causes representing for a god in which i don't believe but it's hard to let go of the image of a six-year-old girl, singing: "send a boy to love me, please"
i used to swim in the ice-cold water get my hair tangled up in the dying autumn leaves an uninhibited spectacle a chubby, brunette childhood prodigy
daddy always said i was too sensitive i'm sorry that you didn't know what to do with me if i auditioned for Heaven's Choir, i bet that i'd make it would that finally make you proud?