#empty homes

under the spell of the waning moons hot enough outside to puke the sad songs of crying coyotes passing through your hollow bones i've always clung to like wind dying in between the trees the fields we stain like our bed sheets white-knuckle through the pain of our hybrid blood dripping when we catch it

there's no doctor that can save you now the curtains are drawn, there is nobody left they've all pulled up the sheets and put them over your head a dark horse came where you slept to collect the twenty-one grams of the soul you had left that's all back to the ground

i've died up there a thousand times hoping you would find me and just take me home, you'd just take me home