October 12 2007- Untitled

Every time you tell me I’m too good a tiny cut appears in me
I feel the sting
The pain
The cut
Deep in me

You say it again and again
You praise my soul
I complete you
I’m too good for you
I’m a fuck up
I’m a screw up
I’m just an excuse of a kid
How can you call me a woman?
How can you call me your love?
Can’t you tell I’m braking slowly?
I’m of glass and air
A touch and I fall
I’m so light a sigh makes me crash
You can’t rely on me
You just can’t say I’m perfect
I’m oh so far from perfect
Do you remember that kitchen drag?
I relate:
I was swapped, I was wept upon, I dripped, too

Every time you tell me I’m too good a tiny cut appears in me
I feel the sting
The pain
The cut
Deep in me

My inside is full of bleeding
You say your heart is full of stitches
Be sure mine’s just the same
Your life could have been full of tragedy
I’m not underestimating your pain
But I felt pain, as well
Those critics where directed at me also
I don’t blame them
I don’t blame you
It’s just how it is
My world was darkness
I just realized it after it happened
All of the pain came back later
When I was kicked, battered, and scattered
It all came back
The cold corners and the loneliness
The cruelty and harsh words

Every time you tell me I’m too good a tiny cut appears in me
I feel the sting
The pain
The cut
Deep in me

I’m naïve
I like to dream
I’m not that mature, at least in the sense I should be
I’m not what she wanted for you
She’s probably right about me
In some things, not all
But, generally, correct
You just can’t classify me as an angel
I’m human
wretched
deranged
come to think about it…
am I just not that plain?