I don’t miss you.
I woke up I was clinging to,
Some bed sheets and a use-by date.
I had disappeared in who did what.
(The wrong in wanting what you didn’t want)
I don’t miss you.
Or your vacant places.
I stood up, saw, I wanted to be Junoesque embodied.
(The more supreme kind of sexuality)
I keep holding on,
And suffocate the workings of something better coming along to change me.
I don’t miss you and I am never ever going to miss you.
If I am choked I will be running from,
A court jester and King Solomon.
A solifidian six pointed star,
(And of course what you really are)
I have such trouble letting go,
As I re-run and double check what I know,
A sonneteer is waiting at the front gate,
Begging me to open up and change.
No, I composed myself for you.
Reduced. Nothing happened.
My loneliness is one thousand times forgiven.
You want a girl for pancakes and corsets and cupboard space.
And my loneliness is one thousand times forgiven.
I’ll compose myself and I’ll push you right over.
I’m not going to be a lost star ship (sorry honey)
Never was a girl for a mistake,
horses and cut-and-paste.
My loneliness is one thousand times forgiven