I'm Not Anything

In early October I thought I saw a haunted black ram I dug my first grave chipping stones and rooting up the land I daydreamed a silence, an incubus was clutching my hand He pulled me down further, consoling me against the sand I'm not anything But goddamn I gotta go where nobody knows Who I am I felt my breath on her hair with both of my thumbs I glide twin wrists with the grace of one strum I set my sights on the sill, I saw that the morning had come She's still warming all her words on my tongue