The House of the Setting Sun

i. SETTING (heatwave)

undo me. what's it to you? sittin' shotgun i feel the sun setting in me, my skin's gonna split like my shoulders in the heatwave. take an aspirin for the pain, but it isn't that type of hurt. how about a kiss? i don't really want to be here, i don't really want to be anywhere at all. i think i wanted to say sorry. for what? i'm sorry this isn't supposed to happen everything's so wrong i wasn't supposed to turn out this way. the other day i crashed from my orange soda high and wrote my number on the bathroom stall of a 7/11. i'm sorry i'm all loose ends, i try, i really do, yesterday the clothesline was dripping with red glow sunset and i tied it 'round my neck to choke the revolution/growing sun out. it wasn't enough, it didn't work. don't tell anyone, but maybe i didn't want it to. i want it to grow.

i'm afraid but i don't know what i'm afraid of. tell me how i fall apart, rip my bandaids off my raw ankles, my adidas aren't that white anymore. i bleed. undo me, there's so much to discover. kiss me, kill me. i'm getting off track, wasn't i apologising? right. well, i'm sorry for my anxiety i want you to drop your phone and sleep next to me, tell me i matter. the sunlight is a fish hook like my golden hoop earrings and it finds my tarot cards at the bottom of my gut. my lipstick is smeared on your collar. i'd say i'm sorry but it wouldn't be genuine. take me apart with your tongue?

– i said, what's it to you?

☆

take two on poetry, much more personal and occasionally angsty, basically myself in words and the brewing revolution inside of me. i hope you'll all enjoy this!! <3