funny how the littlest loves
singe the fingers as they extinguish.

                               my heart
my heart
                                                      my heart
                       she aches.

turning to walk down the hill
I felt tears burn in my chest
though you had been kind
it ached ached ached
to overestimate again.

burned, 'til the skin melts,
welts, bursts and bleeds,
please be gentle with the knife.

ouch! ouch! ouch! that's gonna
leave a fucking bruise!