I’ve run out of blue – Lizzie Scheader

July 2, 2025

Untitled 

 

Briny martini’s 
are just too grown 
up for me. 

I need to have something sweet after. 

Can I lick your molars? / You spit in my mouth?

Lands as sarcastic, self pity 
Lands like you’re a cuck. 
Think: hyper enjammed (totally a word) / getting broken.

Fax me, 
And I’ll fax you back. 

Bzzt-beep-bzzt-beep, 
beep-bop-bop-bzzzt, 
whirrr, bzzzt !

 

how much does it cost to have hope these days?

 

i’m like bro 
you are my bro 
have i not 
made that clear 
by my overuse 
of the word 
bro?

 

I think I just walked by a robbed bank

 

My person 
told me 
He can’t be 
my person 
anymore, 
so now
I’m left
feeling personless.

That yellow
3 month old 
weed 
on the window sill
is looking
mighty fine. 

Might just scrounge it up 
in a tight little roach 
and really give us 
something to work with, 
because 
GOD REWARDS THE MEEK! 

When I tell you I love you, 
I love you more
than my clothes.
More than music.

And air 
is dilated
by your absence,
the smell
of your neck.
Hell, even 
white noise
makes me think 
of you. 

I hope you get the job, 
tell off the bully, 
get the girl, 
and fade to black. 

I hope the girl is perfect,
I hope her name is 
Anomaly.