My boyfriend said it was sad
I didn't write poetry like I had
when we met

I couldn't find the words to tell him
that the words felt like stabs gone crim-
son after the knifes movement was set

so what does that say about me now?
that I write with passion I don't know how
to express without regret

I'm sorry if I'm too easy
for a friend of a friend
but i get too queasy
trying to play pretend

see I've been playing this game
shove in the tape hit re-wind
enough to know nothing ain't the same
so come on over and tell me what to find

it starts out slow
enough to let you think
then right before you know
the world begins to sink

my laughs contagious when I laugh at everything
call me crazy or a pick me up too
he won't bring a diamond ring
but we smile and say boohoo

So there I was leaning against the wall
sulking as all heavens be
wishing my love could live closer
and then closer still to me

and the last song of night gave me a terrible fright
I had never fallen in love till I met you
and one random boy with pierced ears and the likes
did the hook and reel right through

I dare not say I like him at all
no my heart elsewhere still resides
but for second the gloom and the stink of the night
took up its claws and hides

I'm your mothers favorite bad influence
Perfect and in line enough
to ignore the major red flags that should induce reluctance
and instead label me hard working and tough
the perfect girl to get to know

I'm who your father thought he would be
music that grates and teeth bared just sharp enough
an idea of who to be and the will to be free
smooth around the edges but inside too rough
the kind of seed in you he'd like to sow

I'm the disgrace with a pretty little face
and the intelligence to lie
and get by with just enough grace
so that one day this persona may die
as I fade from their neat little row

They wilt with us you know
the flowers, in winter, in the snow

and we know that flowers come back
but I'm not sure I do

All colorful and fun and smelling sweet
that life, so free, nothing can beat

but I quite enjoy melting in their light
my personal cacophony

I want to be a romantic.
not a Romantic romantic,
but a romantic that can write romantically.
just a romantic

I don't know if this is lipstick or blood
That I wipe from my mouth

Is it mine or yours?

Your fingers intertwined with mine
knuckles red and white

Is this America?

when your face turned blue
and everyone in the room knew
and it's mine
every fault in this **** earth

Then I wipe from my mouth
And I don't know if it's blood or lipstick