Mhmm, in film this would be a stormy night,
‘n you’d come ’round rap, rap, rappin’ on my chamber door.
you want in, you want in,
I’m cry-cringin’ on the balls of my feet,
curled up ‘n crawlin’
dead-weight ‘n bawlin’
I remind me of my first girlfriend,
I was so dead-hung on her drinkin’
I knew she was just, just runnin’
‘n it wouldn’t make anything better,
‘n I was right but it doesn’t make anything better.
you want me to vent?
you want the guilt I don’t even let myself feel anymore?
you want the chug-chug silence of watchin’ a respirator keep someone alive?
you want blood-smeared lust of takin’ what you want,
no matter, no matter the cost, the context?
you want the lead heavy guilt I ain’t sharin’ anymore,
for all the time’s it’s been weaponized?
I knew a young woman who adored dandelions,
who’s rape pushed her away from everyone
who meth-meddled ‘n moved, moved on,
but I’m still shadow scalin’,
‘n ho-ho-hopin’ I’ve got somethin’ worth findin’ out there.
you want in–
–’n my greif ain’t nothin’ compared to some,
but that don’t mean it ain’t something.
knock at my chamber door,
you ain’t Lenore,
ain’t no raven squackin’ my mortality.
knock again, knock some more.
I’ve got more whiskey to drown you out,
I’ve got miles yet to run.
