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Algebra Suicide
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1
Always, when my sound becomes too freed, I keep
2
I forget to say I've snuck you into my stories, both told and not, all dangerous.
3
Tonight, I dress in black and order something dark like Bailey's and bourbons.
4
Something hard to forget. I know you'll show up, and if the time is right,
5
I'll pull one on you. That's what we all want, isn't it?
6
And you'll follow me around, asking, "What did you mean by that?"
7
It'll cost you dearly for me to tell. Perhaps a kiss or a bathroom encounter.
8
Perhaps a swearing of eternal adoration. Perhaps a replacement story to hold in my throat
9
As ammunition.
Algebra Suicide - Let's Transact
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