i don’t know why
why there are two of me 

the side that bites his wrists
and nurses wounds

that can’t finish a book
and is reading too much

guzzling top shelf liquor
while telling everyone i'm sober

the guy who’s going to text you
the most vile things
i would never do

and i’ll sit in this cold motel room
all year long if i have to
with its scratchy sheets
and mothball smells

you're clinging to me
but i'm cold as ice
now i'm frozen to the porcelain in the bathroom tub

a little doll
please break me

the world outside is moving
and my insides are churning

i’ll wait
toss and turn

until i’m someone else
in the morning

the curtains are still closed
and you tell me
“we can’t keep out the light”

and i know you’re right
but i'm going to tell you that 
i'd prefer if it was dark