I don't see their eyes anymore
The whole world is superficiality
The windows of the soul are boarded-up
Closed for the season
Closed for the rest of my fucking life
My eyes refuse to shut
Damn it I'm sick of hearing about them
They are not pretty, beautiful or perfect
They are not green, they are bleeding
Bleeding out my tragic trite existence
I see through screens, I see human-objects
Not human beings
I see my next fuck, friend, fix
I don't see you, do you even want me to?
You'll never see me, the objects
They seem real to you
You don't know that the form I take
Is a skillful illusion
A premeditated arrangement of clothing
Expression and carefully chosen
Witticism
It's all bullshit
We all wander past each other
All of our fucking lives
I don't know my lovers, my enemies
Or my friends, I just see their shadows
While we drink tea, while we smoke
Fuck, feel, dream, and dialogue
I just wish I could forget
Forget that I don't know anyone
Go back to the splendor of ignorance
When the fuck was good
And when the friends were loyal
Loving, understanding caring kind
But they're not
And I may as well give myself orgasms
In the dark
For all that my other lovers
Can actually see me
At least I can feel my vagina
I know its emotions its wavelengths
Of pleasure, longing, feeling, being
I know the intellect of my clit
Most of all, when I look into the mirror
I don't see my face
My beauty, my edge, my sass
I see myself
Scared, bold, S&M queer and innocent
You only see a pretty little girl
Who makes you happy, pleases your mind
Cock, pussy, eyes, insides
Look for me, if you find her
Give me a call