thru any pain
and all flame
those of us chosen
Born to Die
we do not fear fate
we play the hand
that was dealt
we play it to
the bone, muscle intact
and veins slowly healing
Sonic youth
but we grew quiet
our flame was doused
after it was used to
cook a spoonful
of our true love
On the floor laying
next to an empty closet
and close to the bathroom
where we deposit
dope induced vomit,
attempting to empty
bladders fully failing
clocks meant nothing
responsibility a joke
laughed and cried
fought and made up
hot-blooded dripping
right over the threshold
of her freezing bedroom
It was our own special
place, somewhere only we know
unhealthy as can be
nothing to glorify
or celebrate
But fuck it-
I miss that time
I miss that place
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