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I'm such a bitch
she sits in aggression
carving poetry into the stained table
doe eyed and irreplaceable
that in-depth fifties music
inducing a fantasy of lost beauty
cigarette stained fingernails
and bar smoke piano passion
I love the fruity drinks
how she straight up fucking hates them
'cause it just doesn't taste like a beer
it's 6:09 a.m. Texas time
the world could dissolve into poker lies
and she'd still be opinionated
about how society foreshadowed it
and how it would be exactly how the general public made it out be that way
so we should all just light a fag
to toast towards our own insolence
"I don't want to set the world on fire honey
I love you too much
I just want to start a great big flame
down in your heart"
Goddamn those vocals destroy my very essence
she might know that
and if she does
I hope the cinders lick her very heartless smile
lip stick and Jack Daniels
that's a hell of a combination
and her lips piss me off enough
to contradict the taste
I know she shares
I hope the sky bleeds green
so her acid can be seen across the universe
after she tattoos it with her despair
I bet the opera basks in her malice
so beautiful it's disgusting
that vulgar humor meets sarcasm
like a goddess lost in desirable trash induced velvet
I never want to taste water
if I can drown in the hate she consumes
as her coax into dark ripples
she's disconnected
I would never dare to ground that
and ruin the fascination
I wrote that some months back
about a woman I could've loved
if I understood what that meant
she kissed my sadness a few weeks ago
and trailed her fingers along my spine
as if she could read my soul in brail
or write a novel in my skin
the way we pessimists fantasize
but never admit to ourselves
she tasted the way her eyes looked
peppermint moonshine
none-of-your-fucking-business % proof
and just distant enough
to see our dead friends
in a duet karaoke version of the rocky horror picture show
I couldn't have slipped farther from myself
mud clogged my throat
and my eroded screams muffled in her silent confession
I'll never touch her again
carving poetry into the stained table
doe eyed and irreplaceable
that in-depth fifties music
inducing a fantasy of lost beauty
cigarette stained fingernails
and bar smoke piano passion
I love the fruity drinks
how she straight up fucking hates them
'cause it just doesn't taste like a beer
it's 6:09 a.m. Texas time
the world could dissolve into poker lies
and she'd still be opinionated
about how society foreshadowed it
and how it would be exactly how the general public made it out be that way
so we should all just light a fag
to toast towards our own insolence
"I don't want to set the world on fire honey
I love you too much
I just want to start a great big flame
down in your heart"
Goddamn those vocals destroy my very essence
she might know that
and if she does
I hope the cinders lick her very heartless smile
lip stick and Jack Daniels
that's a hell of a combination
and her lips piss me off enough
to contradict the taste
I know she shares
I hope the sky bleeds green
so her acid can be seen across the universe
after she tattoos it with her despair
I bet the opera basks in her malice
so beautiful it's disgusting
that vulgar humor meets sarcasm
like a goddess lost in desirable trash induced velvet
I never want to taste water
if I can drown in the hate she consumes
as her coax into dark ripples
she's disconnected
I would never dare to ground that
and ruin the fascination
I wrote that some months back
about a woman I could've loved
if I understood what that meant
she kissed my sadness a few weeks ago
and trailed her fingers along my spine
as if she could read my soul in brail
or write a novel in my skin
the way we pessimists fantasize
but never admit to ourselves
she tasted the way her eyes looked
peppermint moonshine
none-of-your-fucking-business % proof
and just distant enough
to see our dead friends
in a duet karaoke version of the rocky horror picture show
I couldn't have slipped farther from myself
mud clogged my throat
and my eroded screams muffled in her silent confession
I'll never touch her again
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