"When I get back"



Pre-break of dawn



hear the ring it's me



live from a pay phone



talking in the rain.



Things pan out exactly as i say they will.



Will I be less happy



when I get back?



Two hand in one glove



as if we were poor.



The hard up make the soup from stones



like the poor before them did before.



You say the waiting could crush your heart.



But it's nothing new to me



have you crave me so desperately but I know



how when you need me you bleed for me,



though now I'm gone you fill my shoes with new fans.



Always and forever



we are apart and may she see



she'd be free rejoicing in distance



if she only let me sleep.



"Will things make less happy when I get back?"



Absence makes the heart grow still.



Abuse the hunt; confuse the kill.



I know, I know.



Make the dead feel deader



deader.



Make the dead sleep nights with a razor



waiting.



Kill the prey.



I'll hold my child's head underwater.



If it's a boy, I was joking



if it's a daughter, I'll say I did what I did



because I had to...



And if you find my kid later



tell her I laughed too.



We just might work out fine



because I love you enough



to let you give the pain that I want



...And when you do



I just might fuck you



enough to love you.



Once upon my night stand



lied letters piled in columns



postmarked Middle Island



out east in the country of Solemn.