Who the fuck goes back to Indiana?
Another trip to the worst state
all just to listen to more metal

Who the fuck slices themself open
from sternum to navel pouring
their trauma into a flight of beers

Which they can’t even drink.
Every photo I have of you
you’re bathed in a pink glow

The universe like to illuminate you
in its own rose colored lenses

You tell me about the bad
horrifying moments of time past.
Litmus testing me to prove to yourself

The atrocities before me
do not define the you after me
I refuse to abandon you.

A second adventure into this state
proves I would do anything

You.
You live in Indiana
and I love you.

But really,
get the fuck out of Indiana.