good girls don't have knees like mine, but
i am too ashamed to be beautiful
and too resentful to cry.

i remember how you used to tell me
about the first girl who cheated on you.

(you hissed, i knew it.
but i swear i never did.
i didn't even want /you/ to undress me;
so why would i strip away these layers
for anybody else?)

)but, you let me leave my shirt on,
so i, i have to say it could have been worse.(

it's funny, because i let you take so much,
you took so much. i am exhausted.
six months later, & my eyes are dead.
my lips are dead.

- to kiss me: necrophilia.