seventyfive

she's not, she's not, she's not
repetiton doesn't cut it anymore,
but it's the only comfort we can find.

her fingers are on fire
and her favorite song is on her forehead

she can't sleep.

the ground is cold and safe
and she's not his

she's not his
she's not his
she's not his.
she's sinking, she's saying

her lips are on fire and heart is heavy
like a stone. To the bottom.

she's not his
keep your head. it's all just a test.