I thought love walked out the door with you
Yet it stays, incessantly so
Hear of this heart, broken, abandoned in haste
And I can’t decide which fate I would take
See broken can be whole again
With a bit of glue, and a bit of paper tape
Abandoned can find a new home too, the marks don’t go away though
But you did like me marked, isn’t that so?

And marked I am in many a way
None of them good, I am cracked and stained
Even in pain, I am soft and I am sweet
Wouldn’t you say you’re proud of me
Before each thing I do, I ask myself
Would it make me a man as you’d want?
Was I ever the man you sought though?
Call me Muffin, Placeholder, Whore

I would write you a letter, I have so much to say
But I’ll have it delivered to your God instead
Your God keeps no addresses, no postal codes
He says, Muffin, go fend on your own
It is fine, let my letters stay undelivered too
Undelivered, unrequited, unfulfilled too
So what if things are left unsaid
Some things are better left unsaid

I sit on a trove of treasure and pain
A woven label ripped off your shirt
And all the names you called me by
And all the things I read to you
A language of love, now dead and gone
Mourn it, with Coptic, Latin, and the rest
This graveyard you built, in memory of your love
Here lies Muffin, Placeholder, Whore

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