| The guilt inside me Defies me Convinces me that I took Advantage of you In you drunken state Because when your lips touched mine The first time I didn't stop it I couldn't stop it So I pushed back my perverted past And begged for more And wanted more And needed more Until my sanity reconsumed my heart Making me feel like a rabid dog Tasting first blood Reveling in my passion for you And maybe I did want you (have always wanted you) But I can't get past my life Or your smile I can't leave the woman who loves me Or the flavor of whiskey in your mouth On your skin But I can't abandon the life I created Born of the tears of many But your lips - Memory consumes me Devours my heart And I am lost But I am not yours 2003 |
| I am not the pink lip gloss You are used to (and have used too) My hair does not shine with Sunny lights that fall on my face My eyes are not light and transparent Nor is my mind I am red I am white I am dark within myself And I no longer care If you know it I am not And cannot be Your golden girl Who will let you Step on me That girl is not me I will stand up to you Like I always do And see things on my terms The testosterone in my blood Raging With my desire For you With my hidden desire For your body With my open desire To be myself Purely Not a golden girl Not an angry girl Just me Only me 2003 |
| Lust |
| Invaded Frustrated By the intrusion of your lips on mine Your tongue in my mouth Your nails in my back I'd never felt that kind of faked passion Until you Until your mind saw my face And decided I could be yours But I won't I can't That's not who I am Or whom I care to be Not vapid and vacant Just me Who talks too much about my Experience as an outsider inside Just me Who won't be yours for Too many reasons Just me Who doesn't experience (much) passion From a blotched kiss But then again I'm not sure Because I talk too much I think too much And my words and my thoughts Betray me 2003 |
| When I touch my skin On lonely nights I remember your hands On my back Behind my neck In my hair And the drunken haziness Of a cool spring night Floats into the room I try to see myself More sure More confident Less afraid of what your scent did To my head, my body I try to see myself not offering my body to you Like a fine cabernet I try to see myself reddening your cheeks With one or two good slaps But I can't The memory of the heat in the cool calm Consumes the memories I try to hide So I loose myself One more time One last time Though I know my mind won't Listen Just one last time 2003 |
| I can't pick up the phone. To dial your number Would be a crime To myself. I can't mutilate my mind With your promises Of fidelity. You know you won't be true to me. I know I can't be true to you. But what you don't know is That I can't love you. That chemical preparation Does not exist in my heart Anymore Evermore Nevermore. I can't love. So the phone sits on my table Flipped down. Your lies unheard, My truth untold. 2002 |