you are not misunderstood
that's just what people who dislike themselves
I don't want to be worshipped, nor your saviour.
I am not the place you will find God.
when you touch me you shall be cleansed, purged.
Filled with Promethean fire
from the burning poppy
in silk and sandpaper.
Forget Michael Kors,
buy me Molly.
Pills or Pandora?
pfft... pick my poison.
i cannot tell if i fight my urges,
do i do this on purpose
apathetic to my needs
is sleep an urge or a need
is *** an urge or a need
eating, writing, talking
there is no between
indulgence or survival
too little or too much
and it's true that angst is the hardest emotion to conceal
it is able to physically manifest itself no matter
how hard you try
the serial monogamist
constantly looking for your next hit
whether it be meeting a new face, a rollie
instant gratification is your currency
and You worry that you're a fraud
I don't know if i'm the only one who knows
I want to believe
in something, anything
yet my mind overrides my
heart and dysphoria is part of the daily routine
a profound state of dissatisfaction
no longer caring is harder
and i feel it
There’s a strange intensity behind
those eyes, it’s unnerving,
deadpan. Especially squaline.
Yet there’s no glass separating us and
we’ve both paid our fees, I’ve come to the exhibit
to look at the fish but the shark's staring right back at
— The End —