I'm looking at the wrong map, this is bullshit. Sick and tired crap. God dammit, I've been listening to all the wrong music all at the same time. You'll open my eyes to whatever my ears don't want to see. Man this is really fucked up, you're really fucked up. And better yet it does no fucking good. No musical inclination or literary goddess. Holy shit I'm cracking up. STOP thinking. Be your own, whatever the fuck you want. Well maybe, dear artist with no leash, you are exactly what I fucking want and the girl I hate to be can't tell you that. I'm only her when you're around. I swear you'd love me any other way. But she is mine. I trapped her in my nervousness and saved her to pay my debts. She is the hold, lock, shut. She is the fear in your faded footsteps, she is the obligation in your goodbye kiss. The only thing I ever knew how to do was be in love and stay in love and make people believe I was actually in nauseating love. Man, what I'd kill to have me back. Men are like dogs, but only really in the way that they can sense your fear. At least mine. It was one thing I could never hide. To be the girl so unafraid of how this all is supposed to go. To be the one who doesn't walk away when you kiss her cheek and wrap yourself inside of her. I don't know what it means. After the nothings and the too many somethings. I can't tell who is who or which is what anymore. I am nothing, a ghost of love I'd kill to give. Love too strong for the men in my bed.
No comments:
Post a Comment