Truth hurts

It hurt your feelings
but does it mean it isn’t true?
Everytime you’re reminded
have to deal with the true image of you
does it hurt to know that you are you
and that that statement
though it hurts
is undeniably the truth?
It hurt your feelings
but does that make it wrong?
You say you don’t care
but then you cry
is it so wrong to just live your life?
It hurt you so it made it wrong
you don’t care but you cry on
it’s the truth and that’s a fact
it isn’t wrong don’t turn back
if you don’t care look it in the face
the truth to not caring
is knowing your place

On this cross

It’s too late to forget
not enough time left to deal with it
got to jump stones and drain rivers
find myself while making dinner
it’s too late to forget it now
to lose the thought
keep my head in the clouds
like windows stained red from wine on the floor
the sun keeps on shining burning for more
it’s too late to forget what you said yesterday
it’s too late to forgive the chances you didn’t take
it’s too late and it’s done now
all but once lost
you find yourself broken
left on this cross

Lay me down

I ain’t the chick you rock with doll
I ain’t the one you forget to call
I’ll sit you down real nice and sweet
keep you smiling
keep you weak
knock out your fucking teeth
get you with a cast iron pan
in the middle of the night
remind you who I am
don’t forget I ain’t the one to call
I don’t want to be a fucking doll
I’ll tell you simple I’m not interested
don’t come on begging
cause I got a lot to give
throw you a bone honey
throw you a fist
you think you’re in heaven
and I’ll tell you how to live
how to walk the fuck away
with your tail between your legs
remember that I said
you won’t forget my name
I ain’t the chick you rock with
I get mine in the end
because I know what I am dear
when I lay me down to bed

Bedroom of mirrors

We don’t like our mirrors
though we crave the sight
reflections we all need
we pretend we see it right
the nights they grow so cold
surrounded by reflection
we don’t like our mirrors
but we crave this kind of attention
we want so much of visage
we want so much of self
but we don’t like our mirrors
we don’t want ourselves
we can burn the memory
of what we see today
cover up the perceptions
that make mistakes okay
we don’t want to be healthy
our mirrors tell us to stay

Complete

Who are we today
another picture perfect play
a face to love
a voice to covet
who you want
but that one doesn’t
for I don’t know who I am
but there it is
the master plan
I see what I like
another pretty face
a style I want
a personality on display
who are we today
who we’ll be tomorrow
another picture perfect moment
another thing we’ve made
for I don’t know what I am
who it is I’m meant to be
for I don’t know myself you see
who are we today
made up of pieces played
like dominoes lined up
I fall to a pretty cup
that pattern looks like me
or who I’d like to be
based on things I’ve seen
but not who I might be
who we are it’s malleable
based on pretty things
drives us mad
it makes us sad
as we can’t ever feel
complete

Who am I

I don’t see myself reflected in your eyes
just a different fucking girl
a different version you prefer
of the girl I just might be
if interpretations are to be believed
I don’t see myself in the mirror any longer
just a series of women
each one a different genre
something someone wanted to see
a person they wanted me to be
just a warm body to take up a seat
to give them advice on the cheap
and this the meaning of me
what I am lead to believe
the truth only relative
that you see what you want I guess
hear my name and make up a face
pick my home and my birth place
I don’t see myself when I walk outside
every person picks a different kind
it’s like what flavor might I be tonight
because you don’t really care who am I

What’s in my coffee

Tell me
tell me please
what do you think
when you see me
do you see
the animal
or just a woman
with some claws
tell me please
tell me something
describe my name
or bring me coffee
with the cream
and plenty sugar
tell me please
what is a woman.

Disgusting

Underneath the flesh
underneath the teeth
the nails you bite
the blood that bleeds
flooding all that’s underneath
makes you sick
and question self
disgusted by
what rots in hell
demons feast off what we’ve lost
the discarded waste and undiscussed
broken skin and shattered spine
won’t go out look at them dine
teeth that gnash but never cut through
underneath the sickest virtue
you have licked the boot beneath
broken nail and gnashed your teeth
kiss and drink the blood abound
you can hate it drink it down