When I Am You

Who do I look like now?
With beer bottles lined up on the floor
Empty fortys their nieghbors
Me popping the top off an iced-cold one
Not wanting to, but dyieng to smoke one of my last two ciggerates
Sitting here alone all night
Just so I can sleep all day to start all over again
This lonely process
With riot girls producing the albums of my soundtrack
My hatred bubbling over
My desperate crys for help ignored
But why would I want them anwsered?
So they can take me away from my bliss?
My sweet abyss cradeling my oblivion?
The truth is the image
Painted glass fogged to the rim
Heavy lidded eyes of glissining trance
Unresponsive to their pety needs
The smile of my fake happieness
And the affection of darkness consuming
Oh how I love the mirrors reflection
My face
My body
My clothes
Your stare
Our lifestyle