Oh God
oh GOD, they've painted it pink
That room that should be swathed in black
hanging curtains rippleing as played pass behind them
You shouldn't see sunlight inside
It's gray, it's fabric black
It's blue lights from the landed led from ladder
Black ceiling, black ceiling

They've painted it pink. The ceiling is blue.
It's probably restfull if you're a yoga student
Like all the fat old women taking classes
"Here's the option of my midlife crisis
Let's take our fat blue fat lady yoga balls
Let's cover up the place where a sick kind of love festered
Let's remove the table the light board sat on
Let's get rid of the XACTO knife sitting on the shelf
Let's make sure there's no place for a broken heart to make an offereing
To add insult to injury, why not remove the ladder"

There are fucking yoga balls on my memories
There's pink paint suffocating my past
And although the kitchen and hallway look right
They smell wrong, all wrong

YOU.
You brought your potluck chicken
you made your baked beans
You took them in a got rid of the last kind of smell
that lay in the curtains, curtains
I can still find it in the corner of the comics store
But you killed it
Oh god, you murderer, you killed it
It was ALIVE
You've ripped out my heart
and burried it in yoga balls

Can't breathe, can't breathe
Cars rush by on Sources boulevard
heart
i can feel my heat beating, beating
rushing faster then the approaching headlights
sobbing into the phone
"they've changed it
oh god, it's all wrong"
hang up
gravel crunches and you scream to the night
sit on the steps
close your eyes
it's may, it's may
it's evening on a birthday day
and there's a brownie
and there's a candle
and it's flickering
flickering against my eyelids
"watch out, alex, you pyro"
we'll burn a playbill
just because i've got matches and mim's hair is flammable

you'll see my pyromanical tendancies in our only female merlin's backyard

oh god, it's cold
it's not may
the only laughs come from inside, not from the sidewalk i can still see you all running down

YOU KILLED ME, YOU KILLED ME!
I'M DEAD, DYING, BROKEN, SHATTERED
SMOTHERED
SMOTHERED IN BLUE PLASTIC BALLS THAT SMELL OF SWEAT AND CRISIS

oh god
oh god
oh

god

oh

god

and she's breathing in gasps
suddering out
the sound of heartbreak is what it's about

and the ping of a notice
telling her there's a text message waiting on her phone