for the next thirty years
sometimes the neon bleeds
through my soul
she’ll never love me
when i’m dead
i’m not so sure about alive
either
punishment is getting close
enough that her perfume
stays on your mind for
the next thirty years
now, i spend most days
wondering if anyone will
show up to my funeral
another bottle for the floor
thankfully, this isn’t
the first rodeo
the first trip down
choppy waters
lightning in the distance
and you can smell smoke
eventually, you learn
how to swim
how to hold your breath
how to tell a lie so good
you can convince yourself
it’s the truth
Horror Sleaze Trash 