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Sometimes my brain is so polluted with you rain falls from my eyes Missing my fingers in your mouth so you call me crazy again Most people don’t love me when my brain gets all fucked up When it destroys itself with pain receptors and self deprecation

You need a laxative for all that shit you’re talking Tormenting me can’t be your only hobby You’re just as bad as the straight men in my DMs Worked the graveyard to figure out your sexuality You must be really bored to be talking all that mouth about a woman you haven’t touched in yesrs Posing with women that look like me with a binder on

I knew I was over you when I started laughing again Years of torture ended over one last whisper of disrespect Because you’re never going to bruise me again You can go give hickeys and emotional bruises to someone else Last time I’ll ever follow the white rabbit Maybe you’ll never get your karma but you’ll forever have to wonder if these poems are about you