Salt - Little Comets

Pick up on my nuanced groans

Rip apart my soiled interior walls

Given I’m a sack of bones

Maybe you should have excoriated home

The system that I need to cope

Shatters me with every idiom

Suffering a cut to hope

Sullen at the time I needed you the most

Let them bleed me

Feed me salt under the table

So I

Miss a bit, miss a bit out

Miss a bit, miss a bit out

Miss a bit, miss a bit, miss a bit

Treat me as a prescient ghost

Watching over the familial

Speak of me in loud, clear notes

I’m the boy who was invisible to all

Let them bleed me

Feed me salt under the table

And if grief can’t reach us

How lamentable it is to your hope

And if grief won’t teach us

Then I’m powerless to move you along

From these walls