it's so eerie
to look at my life
with a mirror of somebody that knows
(big brother, i love you)
somebody with sparrows and guns
whose skin stretches so clean
tomorrow she'll be burned alive
and then canonised.
i was thinking of writing an autobiography
but then i realise
it'll just be a memoir
of all the people i've met
(do you remember the first thing you said to me?
i do. have you ever wanted to gut yourself
for someone?)
i haven't found the ground yet
i'm afraid of slamming into you.