Belgian Waffles and Black Coffee

The hourglass has begun her descent,

The crows have lined up for your regrets

And I’m maxed out on you,

owing me nothing but rent

And I’m so exhausted by your constant edits

Of my character,

The way you finger every flaw

As though my difficulty was all you ever saw

I hope every time you hear Taylor you think of me

And I hope every time you are sat at a diner

It’s Belgian waffles, and black coffee that’s all

You can see

Try to bear a diet without the fruitful grave

Of my skinny body

Try to hear another’s voice over mine

In your weasel head, blown apart

It’s easy to take them to bed

But we all know the writing on your disfigured heart

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Belgian Waffles and Black Coffee

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