She curses at the romance comic book.
"Don't do that, [censored.] Just leave her behind."
I love those Venus flytraps in her mind.
I wonder how she's here. What path she took.
What path we take. I've always been a rook.
Straightforward moves. Of course, I always pined
For someone who'd move for me, make me blind.
If she would drug me, I'd be off the hook.
What do I do, oh Lord? She's not Your kind;
She drinks, smokes, shoots up, hurts herself and me.
But I can only watch her sleep with joy.
She laughs, serves ice cream, smiles, calls me her "boy,"
Are these not precious things? And can it be
Her cuffs might symbolize "the ties that bind?"