There is a thunderstorm where your ribs were once cracked
Where I snapped them like wishbones to take out your heart
There’s a tsunami in your veins, flooding out from your eyes
Did you crush your own heart, dear, to feel less alive
There’s an ache in your stomach, you spit out bones and wings
Force it back down your throat, dear, get back down on your knees
Did you break all your fingers, the day you touched him?
That should teach you, little girl,
Not to play games with me.