I'm tired of this death match
fighting for my place
amongst the scattered remains
of a
thousand
broken hearts

This is not Sparta
I am no gladiator
and            you            
are
no
prize

And here I am
again
Expecting miracles from a miracle worker that only works miracles for himself
Hoping that if I became a part of him
I could be the rabbit in his hat
While he turned tricks
But babygirl
That’s how you catch a lot more than magical mammals

its a cheap habit
when you get your pills
for free
trading highs for inhibitions
a soul for the beat
losing my mind to
counts
of
three

and she talks to her friends once a month
if that
if she has them
if she can find the words

They're a close knit family
Held together by hinges on picture frames
Their smiling faces
stitched together in a quilt
Fabricated with the fabric of fallacies
cling to each other by  threads of lies

  as living ghosts frozen in time
caged in glass
Haunt them from  along the walls
keep watch at bedside tables
taunt them from cubicle cages
and smile when they're no longer able.

But the pictures are old and faded
And the hinges rusted through
And the shrines built to their proverbial perfection
lay waste

why must we all be
angels               or
devils

sometimes both

lets be humans
and laugh
at
our futility

Temporary beauty
guzzling the life she almost had
hope in the rearview

so
NOW
you're high~all~the time
andyoudontquiteremember
correctly
if
this
is
what
you
wanted

I find myself attracted to
disaster
my subconscious trick
of
self love

I can't help but think one morning while stretching out your bones
And shaking out your manifest destiny you found yourself in need of
A new conquest
A new forest to devastate
A new temple to desecrate
Instead you found  scattered ruins and charred remains
you got swept away with the dust you kicked up
Until it settled
And you brushed yourself off
And carried on your way
Nothing lost
Nothing gained