—I CAN BARELY LEAVE THE HOUSE, MOOD IS ALWAYS MOVING SOUTH

 

 

bottom

 

I’ve got

smoke on

the brain

and playing

card eyes

can’t tell

the truth 

when you’re

living a lie

Autumn’s been

the cruelest trick

a stack

of backward

steps you

can’t outrun

and now

a murder

hornet nest

I hope the

moon is

bright and

good to you

cause all

she’s done

is made

me blue

and what

oh what if

time doesn’t

do what it’s

supposed to do

lately feels

like forever

days made

of yarn

and straw

papercuts and

unmade promises

every single flaw

all the awful

dismantling

I can’t take

looking up

at me from

the bottom of

the lake