12-25-15

I didn't call you last Sunday
Because I'm too busy
Making sure that my days stay stable.
It's Christmas
And I haven't called you today
Because I'm too busy
Making sure my pulse stays stable.
I'm too busy
Sucking the love from all of my pretty babies
Combining it into the love
Of one s****y mother

I hope you're four legged daughter
Has you warm
In the basement of your husbands mothers home
I heard her husband is dying
I heard you're helping him through the rest of his days
Haven't you heard
That your daughters heart is dying
She has too many pretty babies
She holds them too steady for comfort
They pass her back and forth
Arms to arms
Soul to soul
Just like you and daddy use to
And her pulse slows every time
You should help her through the rest of her days
Help yourself
Through the rest of your days
We all know you don't have many left
Your lungs are punctured
And now your brain is fried

I hope your four legged daughter is keeping you warm
In the basement of your husbands mothers house
Because Satan knows I won't do it
I can't do it
My heart doesn't have many days left
The space inside has been filled
And then emptied
And then filled again
I keep stitching it, mommy
Struggling to keep what's there, there
I keep feeling okay
And then proceeding to move forward
But mommy I keep finding out this fluke
Of feeling okay
No matter how strong the thread
No matter how careful I am to toss it
I keep finding these things
Lying on the ground
That use to be inside
Of my heart
It keeps emptying
And it's your fault you aren't here to stop it
Soon your two legged daughters heart
Will wind up condemned
Just like your brain
And your soul
And that old yellow house I last saw you in

But you're still upset
That I won't look at you
That I won't acknowledge you
I refuse to hear your voice

Sandy,
I'm upset
That you won't look at yourself
That you won't think about anything
You refuse to hear your own voice

You're face down
Lying in the bed you've made
Next to your four legged daughter
Your husband
In his mothers basement
Still flailing
Telling us all
And yourself
That you're lying in heaven
You've never seen hell