Take Care by Kate G.

Red onion pulp of a crier 

I have no more tears left.

Friend of a roasted ray of steam

you have never been right.

Bosom buddies who couldn’t last

the horizon, on the brink of a drink

we feel change. 

Squash a little bit of rose

in the ground, it’s what hurt me. 

You hurt me,

you hurt you,

take care

of you,

from me,

take care.