x-ray room sensory overload
scan the trouble in the hope that it goes
but it never ever does

I read your faux-punk movements
easily as I read the mirror's expressions
I'm sick of your questions

I thought I answered all I had to when I said I wished we'd met when we were both younger and naiver to the way of the world and it's tiny inhabitants that want to prove themselves all too brave; I'm as shameless as a dying something--anything.

I say too much to anyone but it doesn't bother me anymore cause I don't see the sense in staying any longer than I have to.