I have wandered so far that I can't recall who I was or what I've felt.
A course my feet had drawn,
(as if my legs could sprout a skull...)
Tracing imaginary desert circles... so vast and shapeless
a mouth of rotten skin,
beneath glossy Chanel lips
so chapped and ugly. (tasteless)
I have wandered so far that I have no recollection of where or how,or who I should return to...
and would that familiar body be of someone else or my own?
I have wandered so far that my own reflection blurs out of focus.
excuse me- I may have forgotten my dignity on your headboard.
within the repetitive heat of your thrusting hips
all that's left is a jigsaw of cognition,
sour and scrambled
echos of the past
only a dying scent of innocence
fiddling hands of remorseless regret
An Empty memory of how I've gotten here,
down which path, and in what span of time?
And If you asked me, I would remain unable
to spill such visions behind such unknown binds
I can't even return to those who've hurt me...
unable to crawl back on my raw knees
for its impossible to twist and bend only an illusion of a spine
I cannot remember enough as to whom I'd run to,
or which direction I'd start
forgot the names of all the bridges ive burned and all the bridges ive already crossed
I cannot feel enough to even want to
I cannot feel enough to want at all, or not
Lacking the energy to wish,or even sleep
or strive, bore, tease or taunt
All that's left are
evergreen vines of coy and stupid
I'm too posh to function and too poise to notice
but I'll still make an appearance at every gig and every party
soul- thirsty thorns which flourish through me
a masquerade amongst all who freshly meet me
of fibers of who I was,and what I pretend to be
box-dyed blond jokes and premeditated charm
I myself, am untrustworthy
on this plain of contagious despair, lust, instability
but I still bet you and all your friends will try to unbutton my blouse by the end of the week..
Little Fiend thoughts behind a pretty smile
and behind such doe eyes,drool starving teeth
you may worry about leaving me feeling lonely and clingy in a crowd
but dont worry about me clinging to the idea of love
my little girl day dream days melt far from me...
of a prince who will oneday cradle and revive me
preserve my porcelain skin from the splattered grime of the world
behind his ever honest form of love and masculinity
he who obtains the ability to separate the bullshit from truth
he who is a being, a supernatural energy
breathe your breath into my chest
to not merely see,but know me
Well shit, arent we all entitled to fantasies?
True, All that was buried in 2009 is gone,
but that doesnt stop me from thinking...
I have wandered so far
that I've lost tally on who is real and who is performing
We all coat ourselves with blended secrets and truths
these layers we adorn with false love, we're really fucking phony.
but what still scares me is when I believe him after hes said hes sorry..
I always find myself in a nervous attempt to filter
through the abstract sea of authentic and generic
difficult, not impossible
I whine through my magnifying glass of self inflicted curiosity
friends today wear dog faces of foes alike
they all sternly speak in confident sophistication of how naive i am
but I Laugh to myself at how naive I was
I used to think beauty was conventional .
I used to think happiness was essential
I used to think love was forever
but only fairytales end in "happily ever after"
[so glad I killed off that part of me,
that used to believe in anything and everything]
I have wandered so far that I can't tell if i'm alive, or floating
and if not, when did I pass? and if so, where am I going?
There is no up, there is no down
just faint memories
black and white vibrations
numbing static in the distance
of a face I wore
and words I bled
of promises that must have been conceived
but never sheltered
and lips that were kissed but not adored
but hurt, and then so decisively sewn
Left with only glimpses of a time Ive lived
of a ground Ive laid upon
a daisy headband I used to thread
a starry sky Ive gutted with my cold eyes,
of a hole Ive fallen down
of clothes too worn-in,
a world Ive out grown
too many lies Ive bit into
that shrunk me too small
and too many bullshit compliments that
grew me too tall
couldn't find the key of sincerity
to fit within
a pretty rose painted world so cold
wished in silence
to myself,about myself
and amongst others
I cant recall how Ive gotten this way
or what exactly this way is.. but something is off putting
I could care less of who you've fucked before or after,
but I cringe when youre not looking directly at me.
theres that ache in moments of pain
and an ache in moments of joy
and an ache in moments of
If only I could regain my innocence
a buried locket, a dead realm
imaginary port of security
to return to the most recent memory of silence, and emotional safety
but even those lands have spoiled and im left with no choice but to venture forward..