After Mitski’s “first love/late spring”

“wild women don’t get the blues”

we aren’t taught to cry, just bide our time

but I’m not ready to grow up, so tell me


and I’ll be there, a broken heart

peach tree child


“please don’t say you love me”

it never feels true and

by now

I’ve learned to want different things

let me teach you how to say it

the only way I know how


“please hurry leave me I can’t breathe”

summer leaves swallow spring flowers and I need

more than rain.

you’ve always been too much baby,

let me learn this on my own


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