rev up my heart, start it as though it's foreign
start it before you run me over
roadkill is preferable to the way
my mangled heart is torn
like a rose with boundless thorns
i'm a little hard to hold
especially when i cry
but i'll grow old with this ache
despite the fact that it's removable
but no, that would require me to stoop
and i choose never to stoop
i shoot my shot
and it lands, but the ball
spins around the rim, almost there
but not really because it spills
and my ill soul will kill for another shot
but you've caught it
hold it dear to your chest
"no more" your mouth mouths
so i'll get back in
my battered, tattered ride
and hide, though i'd love
to call you mine