St. Valentine's Day Massacre

ghostghost

Lyrics:

There’s a pound or two of flesh in my chest yet.
It sits next to the bag that brings me my breath, yes.
A knot of muscle that flex and flex and flexes,
It’s okay—no rest (unless time requests it).
In the bowl above my eyes a gelatinous mess sets.
Air from the hole in my head just adds noise to the tempest.
Up above my nose the light glows and reflects this.
Olfactory system processes your presence.

Outside on the green lanky teens rehearse lines,
With the chords in their throats choked closed by turpentine.
Clutching scissors and lace still their faces are erasing,
As one by one the meth on their breath becomes tasteless.
Daffodils are drooping in the afternoon heat.
You might believe in my house but I am of the street.
Just one more step and I’m going to scream.
This is no holiday; it’s a bad dream.

Red candy hearts, white letters say “Be Mine.”
With my hands on my head on the bed, I am smiling.
My heart just pumps; it doesn’t say, “Go ask her.”
This is not a valentine (it’s a massacre).