May from s/t by Adrianne

The patch on the ceiling breathes in and out, a gasp
Paper lungs
The breath from the sky comes in through the mouth of the house
That's the open bathroom window.

The door to my room, the one with the shitty lock
Breathes in and out, rattles in its frame
The sky is all swelled and purple, like it should be dripping with its rain.
It's been three days, and the streets are all baked and dry.

Don't take me for vengeful, but I would like to see the sky cry.
The sky's tears remind me of a mother's
That would turn punishment into a tender moment,
After a glass of wine, leaves the child confused, the better for it.

• DIY
• Metal
• banjo
• folk punk
• queer
• Chicago