You punched a hole
In the windshield of my 2010 Accord
Some kind of hell
Is coming for us baby
Still out for blood
You screamed like hell at some old lady and her dog
Which backed away
Like you might give it rabies
There's nothing left
At the bottom of the bottle
Your half-unfinished novel
Is sitting on the stairs
I know the signs
I've been learning how to read them
No need for us to pretend
That it will be alright
Alright
I punched a hole
In the windshield of your 2010 Accord
I'd say I'm sorry but I'm not sorry
And I hate your mom
Hopped up on Xanax that the state helps her afford
With money meant
For your sweetheart little brother
There's nothing left
That I really need to say here
Should I try to stay here
Will I just end up like you
I know the signs
I've been learning how to read them
No need for us to pretend
That you will be alright
Alright
I had the strangest dream
I was looking out from your eyes
At me
And I saw myself for real
Not like in a mirror
But clearer
Oh beloved, like a friend
Like divisions are pretend things
Pretend things now
Will never be okay
But god herself did make us
Naked
Clean, just like we were born
So, too, shall we be torn
From our bodies
Like, it's as if each tree
Were an old deserted shrine
Unlighted
Done, pining to be free
To crumble in its last gasp
To black ash
Once again to reconnect
With the pieces of itself that
It left
Behind, the closed lids of your eyes
Do you dream the same dreams
The same fires?