How I tire of you and the looks you give me in the mirror
How I tire of bleary eyed sunny days
(Like I can't see) sun thru smoke fog
Alone I wake, semi truck barreling down my street towards highway
Gray skies do nothing to muffle the noise in the street do nothing
About the metallic pulse in my head groaning dread like a 56k modem
My dowry for this disease of madness - my middle class inheritance
Her white wedding dress and my silymarin milk thistle distress
Equal distance between us like 'we hardly knew ye'
But You, You were to be my wife
Where did you go, who is this woman
Eggshell grown gown olive skinned melanin beauty
How I tire of pretending to like the new you
Like the old me, he that used to be before
It got to me - before the bottle bought and sold me
Tarnished ink blot
Instead of the other way around
Stopped the car, narrow country dirt road red
Backing up now rapidly as can go, in reverse, still too slow still
feels like too little too late, slow out of the gate as always (idiot)
No great escape from falling to saving grace
No night and day, just greater shades of gray
Damage done, iron wrought, frostbitten fingers failing me
'Fate crusades against me'
Yell paranoid eyeing empty white dusted bottle
Sleep paralysis nightmares of bedroom closing in prison cell
Loom over like human beast double lobectomy
Reptilian brain no higher function
Choke down tears of pure amygdala flight fear
Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 4:13 PM UTC
How I tire of you and the looks you give me in the mirror
How I tire of bleary eyed sunny days
(Like I can't see) sun thru smoke fog
Alone I wake, semi truck barreling down my street towards highway
Gray skies do nothing to muffle the noise in the street do nothing
About the metallic pulse in my head groaning dread like a 56k modem
My dowry for this disease of madness - my middle class inheritance
Her white wedding dress and my silymarin milk thistle distress
Equal distance between us like 'we hardly knew ye'
But You, You were to be my wife
Where did you go, who is this woman
Eggshell grown gown olive skinned melanin beauty
How I tire of pretending to like the new you
Like the old me, he that used to be before
It got to me - before the bottle bought and sold me
Tarnished ink blot
Instead of the other way around
Stopped the car, narrow country dirt road red
Backing up now rapidly as can go, in reverse, still too slow still
feels like too little too late, slow out of the gate as always (idiot)
No great escape from falling to saving grace
No night and day, just greater shades of gray
Damage done, iron wrought, frostbitten fingers failing me
'Fate crusades against me'
Yell paranoid eyeing empty white dusted bottle
Sleep paralysis nightmares of bedroom closing in prison cell
Loom over like human beast double lobectomy
Reptilian brain no higher function
Choke down tears of pure amygdala flight fear
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