Menses move. Thought I - Prickling hair - Tombs are wombs and Wombs are tombs but No-one's there.
I wait for you to lay me down And move my arms and legs around. I guess it's silly that I want to spend my years Watching your eyelids darken and the hair grow in your ears. You're right, there's just no place for us. Leidensgefährte bound and trussed. And I know You love me less with every new book on your shelf But I am Getting my hopes up that you're lying to yourself.
I wait for you to lay me down And push my lips and teeth around. I'm wondering what kind of scrummy mummy I would make. Watch you with One eye on Netflix while you're coming in my face. You're right, the world is full to burst. You're right, to live is to be cursed. A couple's squabble echoes through our empty home I guess I'm Blessed to still be bleeding on our sofa all alone.
Fingers crossed. Nothing's lost. We're insured. There'll be cures. I've no choice: You're the voice At the end Of the world.
It's dawn and all our friends have left. I'm listening to your wheezing chest. You're fond of saying you ain't with me for your health And I love you to pieces but you're lying to yourself.