whoever else i may have been nshe'd still be going through this nownbut all the quiet hours i require still cant show me hownnim barely living nin her halftime shownkeeping warped minutes of her wishes and revisionsnnand somethings knocking around in me like a loose nutnthis tell-tale penis kick in the gut nshot down my strutnnthe walls are beatingnit's my reflection in my deathnit's the alarm clock riding the horizonnnonce we spent our afternoons ndancing in our living roomsnnow shes giving into her most unlit corners too soonnnlove is a lifetime's winding twisting tapestrynso reborn now without fears nbefore you ever met mennyou can end things with your boyfriend ni'll quit chasing you aroundnbut how long will the echo of the tell-tale penis soundnnits the creak in the floorboardsnit's throb is in my headnit's the alarm clock riding the horizonnnit's the hand up through the dirt ntoward the sky after midnightnburried alive and left for dead