Artificial, superficial
Smiles, laughs and riddles.
All riddles.
Anything out of your mouth,
Through your eyes,
Through those hands
Filling me with doubt.

Can I have something good?
Am I allowed to?
This race course that I've jumped into
I've sped up way too fast.
Slow down crash.
Speed up crash.

Artificial, superficial,
Why did I ask you to let down your hair?
I look up and I see someone foreign
Claiming that if I climb
I'd get closer to her?
Right...
Your smile foreboding
Your eyes beady
Open your mouth
Flickering fork so needy
Right..
Artificial,
Insincerity in that 'interested' gaze
Superficial,
Those lips stretched wide
Plastered on your face
It only makes sense that when you laugh
I don't give a sh
Right.

Artificial...
Superficial...
That's all you'll ever seem,
In my eyes.

Did he feed you the line about how you’ve rekindled his need to write?
and how he can’t seem to stop thinking about you ahhhlll the tiiiimme?
How about that new take on sunlight
that he’s never seen before.
or how one day he’ll map the heavens for you

did he tell you he’s talked to his dog about you?
He’s full of ****.  
The dog is less full of **** than he is.  The difference is – the dog knows it.

He’s spent this dime a dozen times and the thing is
he won’t even keep his mouth shut about it.
He’s gotta go on and on and on to his buddies about his new “friend” and how he
can’t seem to keep his mind on something simple as driving.

And he’s all about the romance – oohhh the romance – this guy is good.
Flowers on a first date – his “favourite meal” for your first evening in.
And you’ll notice he’ll go easy on the wine –
only until you realize you’re going to have to take a cab home

Then he pours it on thick – thick and fast
So fast you don’t even know what’s happening –
Then you’ve got his phone number
and you know where he lives
and one day (you’ll find some excuse) you call him at work

Ohhh it’s all downhill from there so far as he’s concerned.
There will be one night – not to distant – there will be one night
while he’s reciting some romantic piece he just had to find
you wonder what it would be like to show this man what it is
to really be kissed
to be kissed by you – as only you can.

And he looks at you knowingly – and you at him almost hypnotically
He awwwll that and more – and so you think – it’s a work-night / school night / non-holiday
How far can this go??  How bad can this be?

Then - he’s pouring it on thicker and faster than you will ever remember
moving in with more predatory poetry – using a good meal as bait

You spend the night exploring each other as you never thought you could
as you’d never imagined you would – you think about letting go completely
you re-consider and you can’t quite decide why…  
nor do you consider when you reconsidered
there’s just something about this that…..

Ohhh fuckit – too young to live life wanting
and far too old for what ifs – how bad could this be
he’s a nice man – a good man – his poetry says so
you’re all the woman he’d hoped to be – you’ve shown him that
besides – after ** amount of months or years or decades
it’s time to relax, lie back and get laid.

Then you do  - and it’s beautiful – more beautiful than you’d ever thought possible
During the past ** number of months or years – at al.
He   is    as tender     as     his poetry – all he’d rumoured it would be

while you are as giving as an office Christmas party
– as if it may be the last time you lay with the same or opposite *** ever again

it’s so much more than that – it’s love making
---- well it’s romance making really – there’s no love involved  
-  but it ‘s more than ******* – it’s
the physical relation that makes the world whole
somehow – just makes the world whole….

Then – all at once – he’s a trapped lobster - he can’t find the words any more
There aren’t any romantic phrases left
and he’s read all the poetry ever written by anyone – ever
Deep down inside this “nice guy”
this poet of a million words - this artiesst
really is full of ****

Everyone can see it –they’ve known him for years -they’ve seen this play out time and again
Hell – even the dog knows he’s full of **** –
but the dog has been told – it’s none of his business
and with that in mind – the dog won’t say a word.

When a professor asked me
to imagine I was in love with someone
‘what is it about them?’

I thought of sitting up
in bed or on a couch
talking all night
running fingers through hair

What I said was,
‘their hair’
and was told that that was superficial

So many things to look at – pretty
Girls with short hair, long hair,
Brunettes and blondes
Short and tall – they have secrets
They’ve got them all

The nice ones, too stuck on plans
To ever be free, college and marriage
Is all the dreams the see
The tall ones, those with
Beautiful smiles and smoking bodies
Their lights blotted out by insecurities

But who of them will look through me
And who can see the person
That I’d truly wish to be

I stand here, waiting for something
In between it all; someone who
Sees me for that which I am
A girl that doesn’t run from the skeletons
In my Titanic-sizes closet

And doesn’t die from boredom
When I sit still, when times get calm
But I’ve been here before
And I loved my time here, yet
How could I even sit still
With the cries I hear at night

I'm clueless as to how to fall in love
I think it should have happened
At this point, or maybe even long before
My mouth and lips are on someone’s thighs
The cheap guitar I own, neglected in the corner

You and me, for now, is all there is
It won’t last long
Until I won’t see you
Just like you never
Truly saw me.