Shirtsleeves (The Receiving End of Sirens)

Words fail her Why bother trying to pass off your offense as a good defense? he says, "please don't treat me like a lawyer sweetie. . . . . . There will be time for shouting matches." So he writes - last option. Keeps him cornered in. The need for more stays pressing, But he can't force the pen. For every blot of ink a word is lost. . .pierced skin/new melody And if these lines stay blank. . . they'll lead to no where. She starves for attention. He has hungry mouths to feed. Dietary habits seen [to her] As born of apathy. He starves for attention. She has hungry mouths to feed. Emaciated, both will dream Of times they felt less empty. Under his breath: "like guests and presidents, My words were not welcome where they could not stay." Their arguments plotted concentric circles Ending up bulls-eyes over his ribcage. She starves for attention. He has hungry mouths to feed. Dietary habits seen [to him] As born of apathy. She starves for attention. He has hungry mouths to feed. Emaciated, both will dream Of times they felt less empty. I need to believe in these dripping organs sutured to my sleeves. I want to scream with every dream [out loud] you'd never dare to breath. Two-four.two-four. i can't breathe. Two-four two-four. (i cannot breathe.) She starves for attention. He has hungry mouths to feed. Dietary habits seen [to her] As born of apathy. He starves for attention. She has hungry mouths to feed. Emaciated, both will dream Of times they felt less empty.