tried lifting my body up from my mattress but my left arm is heavy and my right arm is numb. lines from my pillow etched on my face. i can hear my heart beating in my chest and it’s radiating in my throat and head. managed to get the laundry done before heading out to see you. didn’t care when i washed my pants with a cheque for eighty bucks in the back pocket.
i pulled up to your house in my dad’s car, only to have you break up with me with the keys still in the ignition. i don’t like R Kelly. i am the keys to the car and you are whatever is above this closed sunroof. i’m going to drive to the ocean and turn my back to the water and let the seaweed whip my back like a modern day Jesus.