catch lightning in your killing jar
tack your luck to the wall like moths or butterflies
birds with stiff wings and glass eyes that dont sing you to sleep
shed feathers onto your floor
the inside of my mouth is all cut up
maybe from eating nothing but my own words
you'd think by now i'd have learned enough to speak what i feel
sick of being so damned tragic
stitch up your mouth and tape shut your eyes
sing yourself some lullabies
dream of a little king who read the bible at night
and the girl with blonde hair who dies in the moonlight
every other tuesday (including major holidays)
nothing but a goddamned traitor
very still, very quiet.
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