Spiders

And I haven't asked for much since I met her, some courage and maybe some heart. But Jupiter, please, will you raise your fists and mend all that keeps us apart? There's the thing with her father, the thing with me broken, her new jealous ex and the press. And each of them not much worse than the other, but still pretty bad nonetheless.
Because there are spiders under my skin when she's not next to me. And there are spiders breeding armies.
Happily tethered to their funny spouses with drooling babies on the way, with bright colored sweaters that grow in the dark. Can't you make us be more like them? There's the thing with her girlfriends, the whole feeling nothing, the geography of it all. And each of them not much worse than the other, but still pretty bad all in all.

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