I’ll never speak to God again.
Ever since I was small I loved feeling somebody comb my hair. It made me go all sleepy & peaceful.
Out of the ash I rise with my red hair and I eat men like air.
The only thing I could think of was turkey neck and turkey gizzards and I felt very depressed.
My worst habit is my fear & my destructive rationalizing.
I lean to you, numb as a fossil. Tell me I'm here.