Triggers

She keeps on running her, mouth

What is she saying?

I don’t know what she’s talking about

I’m doing all I can to shut her out

I’m about to get the hell out my own damn house

Move into a one bedroom studio apartment

On the other side of town

Where I don’t have to hear the same old squeaky sound

Buy a twin bed with a pillow with room for only one head

My nerves are bad I don’t get high no more

I’m wishing that, that wasn’t so

Maybe a drink to wet my throat

Bad habits creeping up on me

Calling me homie

Give me a pass I’m treading through

Dangerous territory

Uncultivated land

I’ll till it with my bare hands

Everyday a different story

It’s not raining

It’s my tears pouring down

To drown out the sound of

Shots