Today, 02:06 AM
CONTENT WARNING for suicide & grief
Borrow
After Cam died time never seemed to know what to do
with its hands it started tearing out the hours too cautiously
along their perforated edges it doodled me into
the margins of his past with you
I fall asleep wearing your spare heart instinctively overstep
the rotting planks on the back porch
in your recurrent dream
He is alive in the driver’s seat like he always used to be
red knit of your lungs unraveling inside my chest
match his curls lit up by brake lights
Folded in upon yourself in the cold kitchen I can't help stealing
drinks from the cracked-lip chardonnay bottle he gave you trying
to discern the tasting notes of your grief
I'm sorry unbearable tear down your cheek as you watch
fingers peel my skin away
our wounds approaching congruence
He shoots himself and you’re always 5000 miles
away He shoots himself in the head and I’m always in the shower
slouched against the stained fiberglass of your longing
Once from afar I shared his hopelessness
but you shared his life up close
The wind drags a crumpled leaf like his limp hand down the pavement forever
The semicircles on the bathroom tile will never meet to make a whole moon
Tomorrow I’ll hold you while you’re shaking
I’ll quit drinking I won’t bleed
Borrow
After Cam died time never seemed to know what to do
with its hands it started tearing out the hours too cautiously
along their perforated edges it doodled me into
the margins of his past with you
I fall asleep wearing your spare heart instinctively overstep
the rotting planks on the back porch
in your recurrent dream
He is alive in the driver’s seat like he always used to be
red knit of your lungs unraveling inside my chest
match his curls lit up by brake lights
Folded in upon yourself in the cold kitchen I can't help stealing
drinks from the cracked-lip chardonnay bottle he gave you trying
to discern the tasting notes of your grief
I'm sorry unbearable tear down your cheek as you watch
fingers peel my skin away
our wounds approaching congruence
He shoots himself and you’re always 5000 miles
away He shoots himself in the head and I’m always in the shower
slouched against the stained fiberglass of your longing
Once from afar I shared his hopelessness
but you shared his life up close
The wind drags a crumpled leaf like his limp hand down the pavement forever
The semicircles on the bathroom tile will never meet to make a whole moon
Tomorrow I’ll hold you while you’re shaking
I’ll quit drinking I won’t bleed