• Sometimes I sing myself a lullaby
    To remind myself that you’re gone.
    I remember when you would put me to sleep
    So I couldn’t cry anymore so sometimes
    I scream into the pillow and pretend I’m laughing
    Into your chest because if I lose the memories, too,
    I’ll lose this thin strand of old spiders’ web
    That composes what you were to me
    Are! Are to me.
    I like to believe you still love me
    After everything, after you left me,
    After you tore yourself from my bed.
    Sometimes I shout your name into the darkness
    After “lights out”
    Just to see if you can hear me in the void
    They say you entered.
    They say you’re my Porphyria
    But that’s simply unbelievable inconceivable incredible totally inedible.
    If you were Porphyria, you’d be dead
    But you’re just gone and I remember that when I
    Sing myself a lullaby
    Because no one’s here to sing it for me.
    White walls damp the sound of what should be sweetly
    Cast to the rooftops and beyond so I have to
    Sing myself a lullaby
    Sing myself to sleep
    And I had to pin you to the bed to keep you here
    So you wouldn’t leave me
    But you’re gone because I wasn’t good enough
    And an effigy you fell away was torn away from
    Effigy me even though I held you there and wondered
    Why crying blood always looked better than tears
    Especially because I couldn’t see your eyes anymore, anyway but
    Your mouth was open to sing me a lullaby
    So I could go to sleep in your arms
    And now this canvas is the only thing holding me but still
    I sing myself a lullaby
    Even though you’re gone.