Time separates me. By the neck and head.
It unscrews me, until I drop dead.
I don't want to write what you want to read
but then again I never want you to see me.

Don't do this, don't be foolish?
Let me tell you, don't
tell me I'm stupid.
Who are you
with your spiked shoes and hell hair
to tell me where to lay my bitterness.
Why - I'll drink myself to death.
Fig blood is sweeter than
the mud in my bedroom
and the drool on my textbooks
anyway
you'll never do a thing about it because
I don't think you've ever cared.