BLEACH THIS NIGHT

TOO BLEACH the night
 every day / a mind
    spinning around
SOME days are rivers
loaded with white-capped
questions/she does it again
\to die forever within her
arms — always to be true/
         Growing up and
growing down so a little
thing  tearing at my friends
–the littlethings that kill
;; cupboard empty as we starve
  who you are : always knew
: growing up and coming down
so too bleached this night
tearing at my brain /every\
never spinning around
   are these little things
that kill.