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.