Page 246 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B

my growl splitting into a scream.

96 hours without coming,

and I’m humping the fucking sun.

I shove winter off my body,

dig my nails into the neck of the guitar,

strum something violent,

almost tear the strings off.

“This one’s called Seasonal Depression in my Panties.” Then the words spit out of me, dunked in rage⁠—

“Fuck you, Andrew /

but fuck me harder

go on break my spine —

call me Miss Martyr /

You’re the mouth I —

wanted to ride

still I’d sit on your face —

dead or alive

before I sit with my feelings

Cause I hate you /

I want you /

I hate that I want you

you infuriating fuck

Joisey-born disastuh

Putting on a front /

making me dry-hump December

yeah dis poor vagina

bout to catch pneumonia

So come tongue my slit /

or I’ll slit your tongue

Cause fuck you Andrew

I’d rather punch you with my pussy /