“all
my friends got flowers in their eyes
but
i got none this season
all
of last year’s blooms have gone and died
but
time don’t give a reason” – adam duritz
you
want to talk
no,
actually you want me to listen
and
by my listening make you relevant
then
leave me to lick my wounds
i’m
suppose to swoon
show
my love by suffering for you
give
all
work
my fingers to the bone
when
it kills me and you are alone
my
body is not even cold
as
you yell, “next?”
because
the context
is
your happiness
all
is defined
by
my towing the line
(oh
do you wonder who i’m talking about?
are
you female?
well
strut and pout
and
tell me it isn’t true)
love
is defined by my pleasing you
and
when i go fetal
need
a crutch to help me stand
suddenly
i’m not your kind of man
and
how quickly you can sift the sand
and
find the grain that goes according to plan
oh,
but i’m not talking about you
you’re
man gets everything that is due
in
fact, you give so much he actually owes you
can
i say right now?
“FUCK
YOU!”
“surely
he’s not writing about me
my
man doesn’t need to bleed
well,
only when i cut him
because
i need him to prove his love
by
being my sacrificial dove
who
i will toss from the altar
the
second another one fulfills
the
terms of my ritual sacrifice”
appease
her
and
guess what
you
get to be something with which
she
is never truly satisfied
oh
she’ll upload the post
she’s
the banquet and you’re the host
until
the next round of hunger pains
when
she needs to feed
a
vampire wanting you to bleed
voluntarily
until
you’re a carcass to be tossed aside
replaced
by the next needy guy
but
don’t worry she will need you
to
cover her like the sky
until
you can no longer reach her horizon
then
within your inability she will be justified
in
saying goodbye
***
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