Untitled (February 2012)

if i take my fist off the chair
i might bubble over
boil or burn or freeze, who knows
who cares
single-syllable shares

lady grey, come back, come home
i think i’ll be ill from all the feeling
filling me

lady grey come back come home
i know i said
anything would be better
but i lied
i was stupid
naive
desperate

this is not.