boxing day  

swallowing your pillowcase 
  

while my throat bleeds red regret  

thinking about the empty half of my mother’s bed  

my soft skin against fucking cement  

there is a hell inside of me  

that is ripping through my stomach lining  

and it soaks your sheets with cold sweat  

and my devastation and detest  

but Deadweight can’t put up a fight 
  

against the love of its life  

so i forgive your wallpaper for watching silently  

and i thank your mattress for holding me so tenderly  

while i was down.  

and january is spent scraping my knees  

on your annoyance and debts,  

and we both forget i’m still a kid 
  

when you touch me like that.