At least pretend you didn't want to get caught
wake up and waste a day
chase away
a day at a time
and waste away
clean-faced today,
clean taste today-
toothpaste makes my
orange juice sour
waste an hour-
or so,
my shower
is slow
the flowers
that grow
outside of my window
are blooming-
I'm assuming
that you're comin' over soon
it's almost half past four
and you called here at noon
'cause there's a picture
that you wanna see
now I'm not even good at
being me,
anymore.
She got nicotine-basted
lungs,
wasted thumbs,
and one of them
asphalt-tastin' tongues
she wakes up
to the alarm-
her make-up
is still on,
and she can't remember
why she set the damn thing!
her heart is a machine
art is meant to be seen
not felt
not heard
it's just paint,
they're just words
and fingers are for feeling
fists are for beating,
scabs are for healing,
and blood is for bleeding
what should I say?
I know it ain't how it
used to be
but I'm not good
at being me
anymore.