ojalá hubiésemos muerto esa tarde

i heard that you went out last night
and you looked beautiful just like a bat
beneath the moonlight
i stayed home took a vicodin…

and i scratch these words into a black notebook
i wrote your name on top i knew you’d never look
i tried my best to fight the atmosphere
to think the happy thoughts
that leave the phone lines clear

and you never write me letters
and you never sent my sweaters
so i could stay warm when i was without you
without you i don’t have…
a place that’s safe from all the monsters
that hide in my head and sing me to sleep
i think…. this is the last straw (she said).

.-