Sloshed in coffee and grit eye bags drag around sleepless nights dipped in righteous fits religious anger spits that you don't deserve. What you got when you're the one who went and done it what you've got going on makes you wobble and misery is your crayon to draw out the squabble. Your nails on my chalkboard spell out the words a nauseous wave of shame dowses me in shades of gray. Your shadows play across my range like blackwinged monkeys coming to take my mind