The girl who can't sit still / can't let the beat drop / without being pulled
into the throat of the ocean / that invades bedtime / asks me, almost daily
if we can have a dog and her / mother ain't much help / since she acts like I
am the one pulling the draw / bridge on her best ambitions / but nah, it ain't
like that, I just remember / the last dog my fam had back in / the day when
we didn't know how frac / tured we were and my sister lov / ed on Jasmine
every day until Jazz ran / away and never came back even / though we fed
her as much blood / and bone as we could muster but maybe / Jazz
knew something we didn't / considering my family began to dis / solve soon
after and who wants to be / in a building where the residents pre / tend to not
see flames bursting / from its windows until everything / is light and every
thing has the water / pulled from its gasping body / so I say something like
if you can settle down / for bed then maybe I'll think about / it even though I
think about not want / ing to be abandoned again almost / every day or else
why do I have my own / family now if I didn't fear the open / ing of my veins
and nothing pouring / out from them or the reckless thrash / ing of my body
on the floor of a vacant / house like a man that has lost every / thing or at least
watched history invite / himself into that man's home and take / up all the chairs