Does he kiss your eyelids in the morning when you start to raise your head?
Oh, does he know that place below your neck that's your favorite to be touched?
And does he cry through broken sentences like, "I love you far too much"?
Does he lay awake listening to your breath? Worried you smoke too many cigarettes? Is he coughing now? On a bathroom floor? For every speck of tile
There's a thousand more
And we plotted out my death
But I will not weep
For those dying days
For all the ones who've left
There's a few that stayed
And they found me here
And pulled me from the grass
Where I was laid
and i hate ladies men that are fat and dirty and taste bad