It’s the smoke and shadows that fall off of you, and the way that you played your guitar. The way that you could talk and people felt honey and velvet inside of them, you can touch them in ways masturbation never could. The pathetic attempts with explanations, and it was then that you left me on the side of the road, and I couldn’t breathe, trying to run after you but, my feet would not move and I could not feel you there anymore no matter how hard I tried. It was so hard, so obscure, because no one could understand but you, and no one could fix it, because no one had the hands that broke me. You found out the truth in my lies and I know I wouldn’t even forget you. Because it’s worse than that time, the one where I bled to death on your bed. It was that or the miscarriage that really got to me. Our baby was lost, not even born. No plans for that little life to come into being but there’s not much you can do about that. You can stand on top of the towers and jump for me. Fly for me and never actually touch the sky for me because I am weighing you down too much that I am like a devil-ess/love in my groin baby touch it touch it touch it touch me. I can watch women on the t.v but never you beside me, because I am in love with the girl, hiding with me under the base drum. Drum for me drummer boy, he loves her. She doesn’t want to kiss him. Touch him, know him. It’s funny how this works. I’ll drip you in cement suffocate you make you hard Like you never were for me.