Last Night

You know that suffocating feeling, right?

Where you could cry or die or both, really.

Where you’re always wrong, even when you’re not.

Where maybe you should just stop talking now.

Because they hear just what they want to hear

With their synthetic souls and plaster hearts

Store-bought views and their parents’ big bad thoughts

How they drown out your screams with Hail Marys

And smother your lungs with Our Father who

Art in heaven, don’t let her breathe again.

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