Yeah, I still see her
at the wooden kitchen table
A couple of weeks ago
I buried my dreams in the backyard
wet, mossy hole
covered them up with the mud
fleshy as a corpse covered in mushrooms
Yeah, I still see her at the edge
of the cliffside, overlooking the waves
with the promise of perhaps
maybe she too can suffocate a dream
low flesh, when I went to sleep
I heard muffled sounds
coming from the mound I buried
those dreams under
You must know what it's like
to crawl in a line for hours
only to be insulted by spineless
cowards, and the way
you ignore me for days
but when you choose to talk to me
everything fits like a nice shoe
some I'd buy for you if I could
trust you-- I'd probably buy you
the shoes anyways
Yeah, I still feel her
sad words from a lover's lips
a truthful hiss and a husk
of a dream that was lust all along
a/n for the realest OG. Haha
