you feed and feed
eating what I bleed
stoved up trying to turn up
brokeback twisting my face
to a look without grace
but that's out of place
if only I could stop that
then what trash
do you think it would matter
more than that rusty rash
eating my feelings again
coughing along to the beat
hoping I haven't lost my grip
loosening to a point it slips
falling for your trick
slipping on some Trix
left behind
by those damn kids
sucking on a clip
thinking what if it slips
what if I dip
and run somewhere different
would you still be the same
comforting the tragedy
all around me
what I'm left with is me
for who caused all this
ending your rule on my body
till I finally stop and sit
think it's not that bad
then find it's all part of a dream
gone like steam
pull on my seam
stretching it slim
like a thin rim
round the barrel
of a gun smith's blushing bride
take your time
deciding I'm not your type
it's because I'm too nice
why don't you bake me a pie
with a cake in it
delicious
enough for a single sip
then back to the dust with you
run from me

Commentaires