Jan 2013
I watched her lips get wet, as she took a drag from her cigarette. I held her close when I heard her shout, because she finally knew, I had her figured out. Don’t be so pretty, don’t be so coy. Don’t walk away, don’t act like a boy. Don’t question my feelings or make me sore. Don’t, just please don’t, walk out of that door. I want to be the only person, in. Your. room. I want to feel your eyes on me. I want to be the one that you can only, desire. Kissed by a moment. And if you can convince me I am pretty, I will marry you.
So many rules, too many ways to be right. Oh, but please, don’t get me so wrong. Don’t interrupt, don’t guess who I am, or come on too strong. You may not understand that I am myself. Please don’t let my deficit be your burden of wealth. I just want you. To love yourself. Too much to ask? Too much to grasp. I want to feel your arms around me, feel your heart against me. And know, that you are there. No two bit stamp on the back of my hand, a fleeting night under the sheets. No, convince me I am pretty, and I will walk with your shadow til the sunsets.
I am not your buddy, I don’t facilitate second-hand-emotion. I do David Bowie, I do listening to the rain, I do dancing drinking, I do living without shame. And of these words that have been said before, keep gett-ing, left behind with the close of a door. Isn’t it shame you tried so very hard? Clouded, misjudged, may be a bit plus-****? I hate apologies, or the shame of self defeat, where is your fight? Please ground your feet. I am getting bored of myself; the intricacies of freedom hidden in a secret box. Convince me I am pretty, for your are the one who only would know.
I watched her eyes drift to the side, as she held back tears she could never cry. I held her closest when she pushed me away, and when she told me to leave, I made myself stay. Do be you, do smile when you can, do hold my hand, do act like the man. Do make me talk, don’t make me talk ****, just make me realise, you love me just even a little bit. And when I convince myself I am pretty, I’ll be fine, just fine.
So many rules, too many ways to be right. Oh, but please, don’t get me so wrong. Don’t interrupt, don’t guess who I am, or come on too strong. You may not understand that I am myself. Please don’t let my deficit be your burden of wealth. I just want you. To love yourself. Too much to ask? Too much to grasp. I want to feel your arms around me, feel your heart against me. And know, that you are there. No two bit stamp on the back of my hand, a fleeting night under the sheets. No, convince me I am pretty, and I will walk with your shadow til the sunsets.
I am not your buddy, I don’t facilitate second-hand-emotion. I do David Bowie, I do listening to the rain, I do dancing drinking, I do living without shame. And of these words that have been said before, keep gett-ing, left behind with the close of a door. Isn’t it shame you tried so very hard? Clouded, misjudged, may be a bit plus-****? I hate apologies, or the shame of self defeat, where is your fight? Please ground your feet. I am getting bored of myself; the intricacies of freedom hidden in a secret box. Convince me I am pretty, for your are the one who only would know.
I watched her eyes drift to the side, as she held back tears she could never cry. I held her closest when she pushed me away, and when she told me to leave, I made myself stay. Do be you, do smile when you can, do hold my hand, do act like the man. Do make me talk, don’t make me talk ****, just make me realise, you love me just even a little bit. And when I convince myself I am pretty, I’ll be fine, just fine.
