you leave your body , wrapped up in his covers ..
he ain't trying to have a part of it anymore ..
you see him trapping bodies in his mattress , and heart of others ..
and you asking yourself what happened to your happiness ..
That's what you get , you ain't listen when momma told you , you can't love a man who never took time to hold you..
And this is what blues looks like , this it was hurt looks like ..
This is what blues looks like ..
Into my ears.
Out of my mouth.
Into my eyes.
Inside my mind.
In my hands.
Under my feet
Things they do
Thing I do
I know them.
I can use them.
Dirty Little Secrets.
Of Drained batteries
The white plastic robot that uses them
The pink and poppy wallpaper of
Tiny bedroom the robot sits in.
Child too grown to want pink walls.
Doesn't want the toy either
Not since the battery died
Overalls tucked into boots tear down pastel gardens
Paint over the chipped glue in beige.
Of a drained battery
Of a toy.
Sees the walls from memory now.
Won't open her eyes in the bedroom anymore.
wear beige anymore.
This robots Batteries are hard to replace
Beige Is difficult to charge.
Why do we tend
To act like fools
To be adored by people
Who can't even see our significance.
We always pretend,
But we're nothing but tools.
While we give out our all,
We're just prisoners in their fence.
Until when will we force our pieces,
To fit into other people's grace,
While they just stand and watch,
How we struggle, fall, and shatter.
But I assure you that there is,
Somewhere that we have our space,
We just have to seek and be the perfect patch,
Because in some people's eyes, we wholly matter.
In love, in love, and in love again
As friend of such a woman
A friend who cares,
dares to ask where I stand... I stand upon ones heart
Cracked moon light spots blotched with hot spots
Coarse detachments between your thoughts
And my rationale
I speak..... Do I speak ?
To you ?
The truth is so painful.... To you
Buried beaneath you and crying hums alone and patched with agony as you trickle away
Each day your face.... Sheds it's grace, love - youthful taste and play, I'm a stranger to your soul
As I leak my heart on your guarded shield, I crumble to your insistence
It's the 'one'
Bust their just playing a game
Only to play you until you wither away
It's clear - their care lasts like the wind
I get tired of things.
I use them as much as possible
Until I don't like them anymore.
Whenever I have a favorite song
I listen to it over and over and over
Until I'm completely sick of it.
And I don't like it anymore.
I hate it.
And sometimes I eat so much of something
That I don't want it again
At least not any time soon.
I've done three years of debate
And loved every minute of it.
But to be honest
I'm kind of over it.
And I've liked a lot of guys in my lifetime
Once I get them
If I do
I'm over it.
I'm over them.
But sometimes I hear my old favorite song on the radio.
Or I taste that food I gorged on.
Or I have to watch someone debate, instead of debating myself.
Or I hear the guy's name.
And I love it all over again.
that i only exist
whenever you're bored
and want someone in your bed
use me however you need
turn aside, fall asleep
wake up in the morning
as i lay on the other side of the bed
curled up into a ball,
pathetic and alone
and do it all over again
of pleasure and
shut down affections
i can't ever make you see
that i am more than just a body
i don't even think
that i am
it isn't sad