I've come by, she says, to tell you
that this is it. I'm not kidding, it's
over. this is it.
I sit on the couch watching her arrange
her long red hair before my bedroom
mirror.
she pulls her hair up and
piles it on top of her head-
she lets her eyes look at
my eyes-
then she drops her hair and
lets it fall down in front of her face.
we go to bed and I hold her
speechlessly from the back
my arm around her neck
I touch her wrists and hands
feel up to
her elbows
no further.
she gets up.
this is it, she says,
this will do. well,
I'm going.
I get up and walk her
to the door
just as she leaves
she says,
I want you to buy me
some high-heeled shoes
with tall thin spikes,
black high-heeled shoes.
no, I want them
red.
I watch her walk down the cement walk
under the trees
she walks all right and
as the pointsettas drip in the sun
I close the door.

I'm as stubborn as a **** on a concrete street,
I'm as stubborn as the rainfall over London.
And as you walk away, you'll turn to me and say:
“I'm starting to feel that depression.”

I tried to go without drinking for the day,
but soon I was in another queue.
Beer in my hands, cigarettes on the shelf;
oh, I don't know where I am going,
no, I don't know where I am going.

I rehearse all the things that I want to say to you,
in the perfect production within my mind.
It takes a dozen takes, just to get that feeling right;
but now I know just what I am saying,
oh, now I know just what I am saying.

But the words, they will die,
if I feel all right,
so I'm holding onto this depression,
I'm holding onto this depression.

I'm as stubborn as a **** on a concrete street,
I'm as stubborn as the snowfall on the mountain.
I dream of a cottage, down in the south of France;
you and me can get drunk off each other,
yeah you and me will get drunk off each other.

But soon, I will pack
and leave you behind;
I'm taking just what I need
to survive,

I'm taking just what I need
to survive.

Now, I scribble all these words on a page,
and I hope to God someone picks them up,
then turns them into a doctrine for their life;
I just want to be someone's saviour,
oh, I just want to be someone's saviour.

But the words they fall away,
when I feel okay;
so I'm holding onto this depression,
oh, I'm holding onto this depression,
all I've got is my depression,

oh, I'm living for my depression.

Life is so complicated
sometimes you just want to get away
everyday, so many faces
so many places and so much to say
when the world is full of hurt
deception and sadness
why don't we have an escape
from this blazing madness
where is the love that is long foretold
and where is the peace we hope to hold
let me lie still now and forget my worries
let me slip into my dream
and all its glories

It's not a boy- so let me stop you there.
It isn't drugs either.

Everyone has an addiction.
Whether you like to admit it, it's there.

For some, it's a substance.
A-
grindable, smokeable, snortable
-substance.

For others it's an action.
A-
keep me busy, cleaning, eating, touching
-action.

For me, it's a cycle.
A-
god just look at him looking at me I want to be pursued what if he would touch me please come over me and touch me before I explode and my friend has to pick up the hot pieces I want to express this but I can't because I'm calm collective and sophisticated and mature and no one but Jackson Chesley Fenna Sarah Fish Alicia and Plum can know how desperately lonely I am I want to be with you oh my god you don't love me what's wrong with you what's wrong with me I can't believe that I waisted all of this energy on you I am so much better than that because I am calm, collective, and sophisticated
-cycle


Repeat.

The way a woman sings can make my heart melt.
How she accentuates the consonants in "****" can turn me on.
What level of dressing she will let me see her in consoles me.
Her willingness to hold my arm when we walk together,
How easily she shakes my hand when I first meet her,
Can change everything.

Really though, just kiss me.
I'm easy.

the longer
I stare
at you;
the more
things
I find to
hate
about
you.