you make no sense to me. none.
you are a fancy vase with cracks in the water.
that sky of yours isn't lavender it's an infinite nothing. clear as waiting.;
letters to editors, unread. hot sweats. mosquitos. baby steps.
baby steps, baby, i'm restless and can't keep my breathing rate.
and you're not really gonna understand this much,
but in the stirrups while i am looking up.
fraught as a knot drinking up uh-oh like
my fist slips from the kisslets you give me
and i put you on extended release repeat:
"he wakes up in the middle of the night, kisses me as if to makes sure i'm still ok, and he goes back to sleep"
i think your subtle is dreamlike, i think you mean well,
and right now that's all i need you to mean.
i dogeared your pages, i'll be back later.
i heard you loud and unclear.
i am cheering you on in my heartbeat.
i know better. i know better, this well.
i wanted my hatecake.
i wanted a better hiccup.
i wanted a tea party on holiday with cards all up.
i wanted your *presence*, your balance, your sweet.
i got nothing, i got, nothing,
i wanted to kiss the morning pouring and eat your yawns.
i wanted to be your rad b*tch in my Louie Vuitton.
fairy dust girls don't dream, fairy dust girls don't dream
but i happen to be the girl f*cking your dreams --
inside the girl of your f*cking dreams.
you stupid human being.
You were just a sweet f*cking.