October II

I can smell October rain on your skin
 And its disgusting
There is a bomb shell in your ribcage and god damn if I don’t find a way to set it off…
Your mother taught you how to slow dance in the living room the night before our senior prom
And the scuffs your marshalls black dress shoes left on the floor remind me of your hollow lungs
Of the way you fell asleep in church once and the way you fall like
October rain…how I fucking hate
 October rain.
And I wish I hadn’t yelled at you
With my tongue flapping between my teeth like Medieval war flags
and I wish you had yelled back
 Told me to sleep at my mothers or told me to take a walk
But you didn’t
And i do not forgive you for that