Black BOX
Grabbed a black box, To fix your Saturday morning fuck up. But I douse my cells in acid to cleanse, Look up and ache; and I think of her. * * * It looks like her, tugging at my hairline. It feels like her, creeping back under my nails. It sounds like you, drowning me in gaslight. * * * Get her out of there, Out of my hair. Rid me of the residue. * * * I grabbed a small black box, no two. Half off, just like my love was. I tried to fix it, now I'm back Here drinking to the day * * * You left me with a crack.