Fuck me right?

Forty five.

Baby what do you know anyway?

We're both of us sitting in this cherry lit room
Lost as children.

Last night you were lit up by one hundred billion suns
And I couldn't see you at all.

We're both of us parallel staring into the apricot remains
Of a fire --
What do we know.
The worlds serious enough without us in it
To grow old

And fuck me if a cherry lit room doesn't make a girl
Feel like a failure.
Or cut open. Torn apart.
Sealed shut.

You sound like a graveyard on the phone.
And fuck me if a quiet boy doesn't make a girl
See red.