Words speak like music
a melody
a divine thing
a bitter coating on the tongue
like a pill that was chewed instead of swallowed
a vial of gunpowder
a headache
the constants on repeat...

I paid ninety-nine cents for this song and I will listen to it until I tire of it (or singing along to it)
...or some great crash that forces me to either give up or buy it again...

Again.

Why?

Because I am drunk and alone and there is no story to tell.

I love him.

(this is why I wake up with a trail of blood from the corner of my mouth)

I do not  want this
I want to be young and pure.
I want God to be my best friend.
I want to pray on my knees twice a day in a white dress slip.
I want to write down my sleeping dreams.
I want to read the Bible.
I want to read my Tarot.

I want to buy a new song.