The 2 A.M Writer

Your Weeds.

Kiss my mouth with anesthesia

It\'s your cobra spit that\'ll keep me calm

Your eyes are the only ones to kill my nerves

I can only beg for your compliance to my needs

You lay me down and whisper chants of intoxication

Will you ever end me?

Will I ever drop you?

What is the point?

It\'s smoking on the cancer bed

Nothing left to lose anymore

...

You start your soldering and your yelling

It\'s what\'ll solve the problem

You never gave me a chance to bloom in your chest

Blood and words of torment ooze my gums

Break my teeth and expect me to say something back

Lost my tongue awhile ago

Lost it with my will

I\'m nothing to handle with care

Break me like the flower vase

Only to glue me back together with kisses

...

Silent hope I guess I\'ll pray

He never showed his face before

Rocking back and forth, God I hurt

He speaks with truth and beckons me forward

Too late to bring you with me

Never lost you

Never lost you

Never lost you

Never killed the weeds

Was too drunk all along

...