From the Outside

I got mud on my shoes from your front Porch step. That cracked blue mug still on my Shelf. You said, "Come clean," then slammed the Door. Now every room feels like a war. And I can taste that rust on my tongue Tonight. I keep one hand up when you turn that Knife. Break me down. Say my name. Break me down. I stay the same. I don't fold. I don't fade. Break me down. I bite back hard. Mm. Your car sat dead by the grocery store. One busted headlight, one week more. I saw your jacket on the laundromat chair. Like a ghost with teeth that still live there. And I can hear that laugh cut through the Smoke. You throw that spark, I turn to Stone. Break me down. Say my name. Break me down. I stay the same. I don't fold. I don't fade. Break me down. I bite back hard. I was built from the fallout, built from the Scrape. Built from the nights you tried to take. So throw your worst shot, throw it again. I'm still here standing. Split at the edge. Break me down. Say my name. Break me down. I stay the same. I don't fold. I don't fade. Break me down. I bite back hard. Break me down. Hear the crack. Break me down. I don't come back. I don't fold. I, I don't fade. Break me down. I bite back hard. Mm. Mm.