| AND IT'S ALL JUST A BLUR You were once the face I beheld in front of the crowd over the suburbs and rural town/ I grew up / I rode my bike through five hunderd cornfields and I bet you never stepped outside the door or felt dirt between your toes- I was once proximal to your heart and now I'm distal as I'll ever be I will cry and your vacant memory dies with whtie palms and charred knees You peel your skin back While I flashback to the times I smiled---or did I ever? To think again she was foolishly me again in pink ribbons---we aren't all winners here I take a fifth of vodka as you guzzle down your beer Mr. Jones was a nice man and maybe he got all the women---so what if I don't get any men This will never be the resolution of my name or definition of my identity---leaping in your embers was fun And I'm a crazy psycho chick with overgrown nerve cells and sense receptors---maybe silk caulked in feathers---would make you stay in one place for a minute or two And I'm lost in my own mind and going to fast to consider the truth... |