Remembering that water's in the clouds,
I'm suddenly drenched in their tears.
My head is always in the clouds
sleeping and drowning in all of my drenched fears.

I yearn for my insides to stop embarrassing me eternally
because feelings are so out of season,
and not in the vintage retro cool kind of way.

Everything I compose is a duet
but my shadow, though it can emulate me,
can't embrace me like you can.
My shadow and I can't surrender into each other
like my late partner.

Who am I going to wander with in the frigid rain?
and who am I going to share this hideaway with
that's nested in my frigid brain?

I keep guiding these invisible spectacles in my head
like a ghostly shepherd,
and perform them for my imaginary phantom inamorata
igniting and burning my ethereal phoenix bird.

and so I'll linger here helpless and conquered
longing for someone to hearken my silent
high pitched banshee shriek,
which continues to remain unheard.

Feel like a raindrop in an ocean,
just a teardrop in a dragon's eye.
Just an ant in a sand hill
scurrying from gargantuan shoes and haunting lies

And so I'll hideaway and bide my time
until it's gone and I evaporate
because these great expectations
will forever be far too great.

This is familiar ground I stand on.
This is familiar ground I fall to my knees on.
This is familiar ground I sleep upon.
This is familiar ground I'm buried beneath.

So I'm waiting for someone to say something.
I'm waiting for someone to stop asking me,
"Are you okay, miss?"
as if it makes a difference.

You've fooled me once, you've fooled me twice
you've fooled me thrice
you've fooled me everlastingly.
I'm a dazed and gullible fool.
You're the jester; I just wish the joke was on you.

Forever only a lady
and never anyone's rose to tame.
I long to be the rose just this once, maybe.
Please. Tame me.

So I stuff the holes in my chest with neon lights
and curled up currency and healthy pours
as my viscera seeps out my unhealthy pores
making muddled puddles on these many ***** floors.

and your attention lacerates me like a disembowelment
but my it's my affection that  is the Hari-Kari
while your schizophrenic agenda is the knife.
Together we're a daily ritual suicide.

I never knew we were born to die
because I've been forever blind.
Thought you could be my lucky cricket
until my heart ended up dead on the roadside.

So sing my neglected soul to sleep.
May it rest peacefully in pieces
while my severed heart wanders aimlessly.

Forever waiting for my decrepit friend
with my heart nailing my spine to the earth.
I need this Cimmerian Shade to remind me
that this isn't how things determinedly end.

...and I read the news and still feel uncomfortably serene,
despite the dead heroes and all the entitled people.
There's no luck anymore, just a fistful of my abysmal choices,
and I'm kidding myself if I think I haven't always been the antagonist of this epic journey.

...and all I challenge you is to come over and waste some life with me
and to blindfold me from your behavior like a child that's convinced of unicorns.

...and my cheeks smolder with my incinerating charcoal soul.
I suffer as I admit my desires and my charcoal soul will continue blistering until its substance is melted and twisted like wax.

...and I was captured in a landslide that only I can palpate,
curious as why nothing has seen me being removed ever so slowly,
like it's my undying fate.

I'm summoning everybody I know and everybody I don't,
to the races to see how fast I can run with my wounded spirit.

Place your bets.
Beat the odds.
Get lucky

There's plenty of fish in the sea,
but what about the bad ones?
I feel like my skin is made of wool
and I'm always Yoshimi battling the robots,
but maybe the Yoshimis are battling me.

And I've always hated gospel
but it's the most honest shitlist I've read;
and I feel like my mind love to play tricks on me,
like my own personal sugar daddy.
It's my zombie friend that constantly lies to me.

The bells in my brain keep ringing "rill rill rill"
like the disorderly dreams they know best
and I can always feel the knife tickling me until it hurts like
"Why don't you come to my party, Valerie?"
but I always end up alone by the woodpile out back
wishing for the past black out days.

These emotions spread like wildfire
miles away to the sea-saw I once admired from the ground
never getting higher.
And I've always been a two-headed girl but never a friend
and although I know it's a man's man's man's world
I know it now more than ever.
and every single night I morph more and more more
into Mrs. Robinson and I'm more and more and more
terrified every single **** mother ******* day.

I've had my one-life stand
and I'm settling for being confronted with my failures
though I have not confronted them.

And although every one else can enjoy swimming against the current I can't help but be the one breathing under water that ruins the trip to the lake.
What do I mean?

I never know.

I just want to be the king in a purple robe of velvet and satin asleep on a throne but I'm stuck asleep at my own feet waiting for someone to poke me
until it hurts.

In the end of it all I never try to search for answers to the riddle anymore,
and the same songs will always find a way to play,
unlike me.
How do they manage it?

I'm weak and already sleeping in the ground.

A.D.H.T isn't special anymore and neither is Vitiligo,
just like diabetes isn't anymore and neither is cancer or tumors
or depression or anxiety
anymore.

We're just here not appreciating each other like everybody else.

Every thought is a chemical imbalance in the brain
and everybody's insane.

and the bottom layer, against my bones knows
that it's been a long time since I've anxiously awaited someone's response.

I always drop off,
maybe I jump.
All I know is that my cheek is forever grazing the pavement.

I never know if I jump or if I'm pushed.

Maybe because I can't feel anything all anymore.

and the harmless always skewer me with their words or
with their silent hearts.

and I try to decide if the red water I see is always blood
or if I'm just dreaming all the time.

It's been awhile since I've met a human that's not a stranger.
I'm forever a stranger.
I'm stranger than I even understand.

My necklace is a rope,
and my pendant-- my boulder heart.
It snaps the nape of of my tired neck
while my knees quiver stubbornly, locked and trembling,
until they give way with my hollow spine.

A paralyzed portrait on the petrified pavement,
people walk all over me,
careful not to step on the cracks that engrave my porcelain corpse,
oozing out rivers into the soles of their soulless feet.

And now with my fragile frame and my heavy heart I wait
for the world to crash down beside me
and the debris from the wreckage to cover me
from the tepid breeze of the storm staring me down.

I've always remained in dichotomy
while other souls remained in the universe.

I've always had two,
but not because I had to.
things have always just happened in twos
while other souls remained in a world of waltzes and triplets
without ever capitalizing or utilizing any of it.
Rather they capitalize and utilize all the means to disguise the lies they use to hypnotize the tiny guys under their gargantuan feet.

I've always exercised contingency like its some type of emergency.
but my options are all always only heads or tails.
Let me *** your di so my options aren't just to live or die.
Because until sharing is caring we will never prevail.

I'm restlessly creating calamity,
creating comedy through my restless tragedy,
and unless your majesty dismisses me from my mission of creating maladies I'll never create the melody in which my face yearns to sing, and I'll continue super-imposing the many faces I have, never fathoming if my face is nothing but a window dressing,
messing up its potential to be sunkissed,
dismissed by any opportunity my hands have of discovering if my face is upside down or backwards or fits right at all.
But it has managed to adapt, obstructing my view...
bringing the dimensions of distance and all the backs in front of me into focus.

There are no faces in back of me
no faces facing me
only backs in front of me
and my back is to the wall.