spit on yourself
every time the sun hits the snow
do you still get a rush from knowing you're always right?
every time the six hits the four
do your feet touch the floor and wonder if I'm alright?
even when you're facedown on the floor
do you still beg for more?
one more time
just one more go
you give her and quiver so naive
now I'm just a ghost inside of your home
you sleep in and stay awake for weeks
all the burnt past
as offerings go
but you didn't seem convinced
even when you falter
even when the sun ends the snow
will you still get a rush from knowing you're always right?
even when the six hits the four
does your hand touch the door and you can't see past it all
even when you're facedown on the floor
crooked smile for more
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