2:20

I wrote this at 2:20

Cutting wrists with mom's scissors

copy,

paste and reblog

plays pop songs

cries and longs

for the little mister that's missing her

"There, there

across the sea's not so far

if you forget cars

and hard tar

and divide the distance

of our positions 

by the times that I've wished for you"

She left me later

to get fucked up

on the beach, I guess with

some skaters with nice hats

thin beards and big trucks

Hair in my hands and

my face in my knees,

two rings

before the machine tells me

she's unavailable.

And I'm unable

to think straight

or wait 

for day

break

My short career

as an amateur heart saver

I hope she still sleeps with the stuffed animal I gave her.