I Thought You’d Comfort Me
I wrote this in a laundry room.
You said you’d comfort me, I guess I’d run from me too.
Watch I’ll become complete, load up the gun and I’ll shoot.
Unholy I feel so sweet, look up, don’t you love the view?
Laying in your bed.
I can’t seem to remember.
How cold it gets.
Each fucking December.
...
And the Earth turns again.
Just wait around it seems, everything comes into view.
Lay here with clammy feet, wearing a hoodie in June.
Holding my nose, it bleeds. Living the lie, that’s the truth.
Voice in my head.
Sick of the theatrics.
The cast takes a bow.
My Mom was and actress.
...
And the curtain falls again.
