Ripped jeans,
Stripped means,
Why is it you want me
But only in the evening
I dress up I play nice
I smile wide, my lips say "sure"
But you bend my spine a little more
Is this living, or is it war?
And what am I even fighting for?
Am I just the price tag for love?
A discount in the corner of the store,
The half-off story of love you never pay the price for?
But now no more,
No more half-love store
No more spark to take-
When the lights are low
Enough of your mouth-
Whispering your empty heart
I'm no longer your midnight show
The use of my skin you always tore,
I don't want the 'maybes' anymore.
I'm done being the puppet,
Put on the shelf, with a disguise
Not really a lover but not a stranger
I'll take what mine, I'll speak my truth
And from here on out
I am the only one dependent of my mood.
In honer of walking through a clothing store.