cramped inside the boiler room of my mind

out

up

anywhere but this prison cell of cement and drainpipes

I'm breathing through a ventilation system stolen from the man down the hall with loud lungs and toes that tap the rhythm of the sewer running through here

I am coated in grease

the kind you claw from your cheeks

with gloved hands and blood red acrylics

I've never been the kind of girl who sticks wax in her ears I've always loved the sound of the city

but I'm getting sick of your pity and the pain that comes from girls screaming your name in the moonlight while you're moaning mine

we lost too much time moving in

my skin has sunken bits which you have hidden inside deflated balloons with memories of drunken fools and the days when you first loved me

the ceiling is nothing but bank notes and the fan is spinning hot air how could the wind be so stagnant there is no translation for the cold in this desert

your cuticles are stuffed with pine needles your liver has been stung by bumblebees and elm trees have never leaned northerly

and nothing ever grew green until you met me

the walls have always been concrete but we have learned the secret to separating water from wine and what the clock tells isn't time it's just when the sun will rise

there's only one window but for all we know there could be twenty

because our eyes are oil paint and our wiring has always been exposed copper

I release my saltwater from a dropper and the acid of your saliva crawling through my tear ducts has burned holes in my purgatory

the defense is always guilty of something but I was prosecuted for the wrong crime

I'm not protesting my confinement I just wish to redefine my sin

from murder to melancholy

all I'm asking is a view of the sky

cause there clocks mean nothing to me

and I like to watch time tick by