I like to keep my liquor next to my Laneige

I like to keep my liquor next to my Laneige

I like to keep my stings next to my bed frame

I like to keep my cigarettes on my nightstand

I like to keep my clothes hung over the rail.

I like to whisper my sweet song

across the morning rain

where the droplets fill my empty heart

they hide away the pain

the longing to be the neat and tidy petticoated girl

that keeps her vanilla perfume on her dresser

with her innocence and pearls.

but my liquor remains on my vanity

and my heart sharp as a knife within my draw

For I am not the girl next door

I could never be that pure.