It's unlikely that I'll see you eye to eye
or bother avoiding delicacies.
you're too sweet, you see.
you're too sweet, and you're perfect for me.
And I wanted to be devastated.
I want to feel numb and cross.

I want to live in a crawlspace of life
because as much as there is a soul for everyone
mine has died. he has died.

he has died in my arms, and I crushed his corpse
to dust, for me to shove into my eyes
and gather the semblance of irrational vulnerability.
Because to be frank, I feel nearly nothing.

My mind is vacant, as my eyes, as my heart.

Do you regret? I regret some stuff.
Not a lot. Not so much to fill a book.
But enough to fill a sentence.

I regret living in my head.

To disconnect from my head would be bliss.
To reconnect with earth would be bliss.

I called you a king.
Draped you in waking robes
and kissed your feet with misery,
I called you a king.

And you are that,
and I regret
rebelling.

hair 2

I'll just keep cutting my hair til I feel okay,
and he said to me, he said,
"You'll never be okay, I can promise you that"
and I said, oh did i ever say,
I said nothing, and I picked up those scissors,
and I cut til my skull plucked itself pink into the air,
and I said nothing.

hair 1

I have long black hair, and I hate it.
I hate it because you like it, and I hate that.

I have big brown eyes, and you like when they're plain,
so I'll crease them blacker than holes so you'll never see them again.

You'll see a bright star piercing the sockets
and it won't be you, and you'll never recognize me again.