722

she kisses like gasoline
she spikes my drink
I fall into a deep hole
and she tells me
“you should be used to it,”
I can’t disagree

I’ve had my cup
and my scares for the night
so I sleep easy

she talks in her sleep
and spits up ashtrays
and cries a little at dawn
I tell her,
“you should be used to it,”
and I wince a little
it’s just the wind
a little bit
just the wind