The Battle of the Boy Least Likely to

Warm milk and honey
Sweeten my teeth
From little acorns you.
You quietly made me.
Made me into me
Paper thin skin stretched
Over my bones
From shells and pebbles you.
You quietly made me.
Made me a home
But I can’t get used
To being alone
And I won’t get used
To being alone
Under a full moon
Hopelessly trying to
Retrace our footsteps in the snow
I don’t know when to hang on
And when to let go
Foxes in boxes
And butterfly blues
From little acorns you.
You quietly made me.
Made me into you
Holding it under
My tounge 'til it stings
From all of my demons
You quietly saved me
Again and again
But now I feel
And surface again
Yes, I can feel
And surface again
From little bubbles
Little air bubbles
Little embolysms grow
I don’t know to hang on
Everything I feel feels wrong
I don’t know when to hang on
And when to let go