Holes from Hypnagogic Rope by Blowflies

Dear Elaine
I made our bed
I’d mail you back your pillow
But it’s where I put my head

When I lay
And face the wall
Thought there’d be something that I missed here
But there’s no sign of you at all

Dear Elaine
How is your head
Does it hurt to drink your dinner through the
Hole in your chest

And how are things
Since I left
How does it feel to kiss your mother’s cheek with
The crater you have left

Is it still there
Do you think about me often
Are we still kicking around in a corner somewhere
Is your refrigerator rotten

Or did you die
In the storm
Is there someone selling all your things
On the corner of Eighth and Fourth

Was your last thought
Before you hit the ground
That you’d like to come and see me
One more time if I was around

I cut the cords
And now you’re free
They weren’t attached to anything
But you wouldn’t listen to me

Now you’re stuck
In the queue
There are a hundred more just like me
So much better at saving you

I did my time
You’ve still got time

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