There's a post
A long, tired ghost
Funny and verbose
Like the lengths I tear into
When thighs
And heat remind my eyes
The fleeting message aside
The coroner's gotta die
Sometime
Author in a ship
S.O.S.
Barrel off the hip
And in your chest
We couldn't find the script
So we made up the rest
It was all for the best
Composed
And mother's getting old
Retiring to the fold
You always knew she would
Tired goals
The anchor at the dock
Interrogated hearts
I just don't wanna talk
Sometimes
Author in a ship
S.O.S.
Barrel off the hip
And in your chest
We couldn't find the script
So we made up the rest
It was all for the best
