Dear Tori

dear tori,
i know you're busy playing God lately
but my wings are broken and i can't make our appointment

you see
i'm a hunter with a chipped manicure
that got stuck in yesterday's cage

you told me
"Don't stop what you're doing, my ugly one"
but now that he's gone
i find it hard to appreciate
the pink icing on my birthday cake

you're my little savior
singing under my pillow
when all turns cold, Tori,
i turn to you

speeding down the freelane
you sang 'Baker Baker'
to my bloodshot eyes
and you know what's good?
He never really liked that song anyway
it's all mine. You're all mine

I'm the girl in the coffee shop
that doodles on the napkins
and avoids eye contact
with the men on the street
i fear them
and their crooked hands
that dig into my brain

i don't think i can take
another chemotherapy session
but i know i must rid myself
of his cancer

thank you for giving me the strength
I won't stop what i'm doing
yours,
the ugly one