Her heart is in my hand
It shivers like a toad
She tries to understand the
Tiny lump that’s down
Inside her throat it goes
Suck suck
Her face is inside out
An open book report
I read what she’s about and she’s
Filled with words that hurt it goes
Suck suck
Her head is in my lap
It twists and coughs and sings
Her hair is in my grasp
It hangs and swings like
Swollen strings she just
Suck suck
Sometimes I want her in
Sometimes I want her out
My perception of sin
Is filled with pain and fear
And doubt
She is not my girlfriend
I’m not who you think I am
Her clothes are on the ground
A crumpled rainbow mass
She’s scattered all around
And she’s scattered now
Like broken glass it goes
Suck suck
Sometimes I want her in
Sometimes I want her out
My perception of sin
Is filled with pain and fear
And doubt
She is not my girlfriend
I’m not who you think I am