I once felt presumptuous that I could make you o.k. That I held the power That strangling fierceness-My masochistic confidence- In my ability to manipulate Memories are fatal, because when I opened my eyes, it was still real. No amount of raw willingness could have changed the dynamic My anger is bright and flashing My loyalty has betrayed me I knew I would never win the war Can't you remember the indelible impression Upon my checkered bedspread? I had no terror in me then Only survival of the fittest were you challenging me? were you invoking my fury? How confident and succint your amusement I still feel so separate I still feel so smug in this charade of distraction All I really want is some comfort without compromise A way to get my hands untied-And you're convinced I can't see through you but i can and I do. I bought my peace of mind a morning at a time I'm often pressed to wonder Wasn't my coldness and frigid stance so glaringly apparent? You never relented-I guess I had lessons to learn-Morals to seek-Hours to kill I hate the way I seek out your eyes in every bar that crosses my landscape-Shapeless Motions-shapeless MInds-That I conquer in the darkness-Score-What am I hungry for? I hate the way my thighs look at 5 a.m. in my black bonneville-when i'm trying to pretend I really do understand you. And do I really need to drag myself through the mud of your reckless conversation? Do I really need to run my fingers through foreign hair-wishing I could feel anything less than revulsion-An inexplicable need to run? Do I really need to convince you that I give pretty good head? Do I really need to understand why it's my job to listen to your inane grasping for meaning? Sometimes my physical strength feel so right-Like solving a linear equation-Graphing a line- Parallels are drawn-Yet, nothing is an absolute. Sometimes that Bottle makes me courageous and irreverent and destructive-So I can be guilty of all the things I deserve to be guilty for. Would you forgive me if I drew blood? Don't you remember my youth? That small window of opportunity to mold into the perfect thing? I hate the way I pick you apart at 5 a.m. when you're seeking a kindred soul-I regret my selfishness-But not enough to really matter-I hate the way the birds chirp at 5.am.-Signaling the end-Shapeless motives, shapeless minds-Score- What am I hungry for? And it's gray and rainy today An excuse to be melancholy I once caught myself In a compromising position In a brightly lit hotel-lobby bathroom And then I felt entitlement and false pride Bitter Reinforcement And I wonder why there's no gentleness-It's all sharp edges- So much wrapped up in such a fleeting moment= Lonliness is that first 10 minutes unmasked- Light magnifying my shame- Shapeless minds, shapeless motives-Score- What Am I hungry for?? |