Untitled - Arms Aloft

Call her sweetie

Or touch her one more time

And I hope she sweetens up your F150's fuel line

An embarrassing leap to retaliation

But what else can I do?

It doesn’t seem like

Eye-to-eye here is an option

Hope that time tells us that your son

Grows up, despite your influence

A far better man than you

I hope he sees as little of you as I figure

You burn down hers with just your words

I’ll rip up a rag or two and we’ll fix ourselves a drink

When she strikes that match and takes herself back

I hope that my hands reek of gasoline

If that’s a real man

You can’t make one out of me

You don’t end up a predator just because you’ve got canine teeth

It’s a mindset that you hide behind.

tuck away your insecurities

Your only boldness is the fat fucking line that anyone can draw between

Your deafness to her struggle vs. propensity to hear me

Amplification not co-option

Safe the foundation, trim the rotten

You burn down hers with just your words

I’ll rip up a rag or two and we’ll fix ourselves a drink

When she strikes that match and takes herself back

I hope that my hands reek of gasoline