Acidic, my throat burns, constricts, I am
sick...

She felt bright and shiny
and a little bit new...

Burn you out
Burn you out...

Winter warmth
felt icy, so I ran...

You know they're kind of the same
both like art...

I run
too quickly...

I cry myself to sleep at nights
pretending with the lights turned out...

I am electric.
Full of streaming lights and silence...

If I could write something pretty-
I imagine it would feel...

like being erased.
like being snuffed out...

Somewhere, perhaps California
there are lemon trees, full and green...

I am drowning
in the tidal waves I've swallowed...