Divorcing, So Many Times, Yourself Means You’re A Prostitute

Hear he comes
He flew by on our divorce
As time ticks and as our inks fade
I’d stick you way far down

He uses binoculars as a spy equipment
While you use pepper spray for defense
He takes things seriously
You seriously take all of this
and give it all away to charity

I feel I’m losing myself
I’m turning against you!
You said the crimson bed will make me feel like you’re wearing nothing at all

Oh, of all the stained glasses
Incinerate faces!

Dust trails, bunny tracks, fake reels
What do you mean?
Late nights, alleys, cold cells
What do I mean?

Yesterday, he said you’re a she-male!
That’s why you’re always locking up!
He even said he slept with my wife!

I can’t tell by the blood on his face!
You’re a joke, so as I, so sell me!
He’s cracking up ‘cause he’s gay and I’m not!
Get out of my life ‘til I’m dead!

Oh, of all the stained glasses
Incinerate faces!

He said I’m dust trails, bunny tracks, fake reels
What do you mean?
I’m on late nights, alleys, cold cells
What do I mean?
Posts and nightclubs, beds
Liquor, sex and ‘rettes
What can I know, I know
What can you say? I mean


written on August, 2007

eidos # 121

Advertisements

~ by controlkiryu on 15. 11. 2012.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

 
%d bloggers like this: