Saturday, September 8, 2007

Recovery

But first, dang, this is why we hate birds.

Wrapped up in candy like shit I say you should save some tomorrow
for too long I've thought saving up myself for somebody
was going to deserve {retribution, redemption, reward}
a little bloody something nice enough to stay alive for

But dang there was only tears and fears and ironies so damn convenient
it's like I've been living here for years,
I am so Queen of Angst it's not funny -- not funny, not funny,
But you learn to like your life somehow, warts and all

Because it's your tragedy, it's your story, it's your sadness,
and nothing stretches out more romantically into eternity
but your power to say yes, or no, or maybe{fuckyouIdetestdeadlinesmotherfucker}.

I am no longer waiting, sweetheart -- boy/girl love is overrated
(and underrated and mysterious and refreshing and strange but
practically irrelevant until the opportunity presents itself)
I am too damn funny to walk around wearing this fucking nimbus cloud

Like I owned it fuck.you. sweetheart, you are just about to understand
Everything I've been singing all these years
But like so many other similar shit -- here we are near the edge of life
(and stages, and new lives)
And I no longer want to see your face.
Because suddenly, quite suddenly -- there are other things to do.
Mood: everything's dandy

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