Highs and Lows

If you knew what I do

when I was away from you

you would probably hate me.

But like a challenge

I burn bright in your face;

I am

what

brilliance

should be;

or so

you tell me.

She

(or is it me?)

plays

prime

examples

of verses

that stain

her skin

like twisted

pale

tattoo ink

sloppy

against her heart.

(Does she have a heart?

If she can do all of these things and still fall asleep each night.)

I'm so fucking wonderful to you

surviving

in my golden

world

of well-matured

immaturity

(and still you ask me why I left;

well

for

the

last

time

I was

so sick

and so tired

of the conversation

spoken

so often

that I could recite it in my sleep-

or that same sleep

that you claimed

my bullshit would never allow me to get.)

In a world full of words

I can't help that I find more comfort in my own

rather then in others.

And

if you question

my question-marks

one more time!

If

you

d

o

n

t

like

the way I spell it out

then feel free to leave.

If you could see

me

when

I fall into the bathwater at midnight

and hold myself

under long enough

to burn

like ice

milting inside my low days-

"How did you get like this?"

Well

darling

this is what I tell everyone...

(go out

and have a crazy man

-who had already poured gasoline allover himself and set the fucking match-

catch your eye

and run you down in his black pick up truck.

Wait it out in the smashed car,

stop breathing

and look straight into the faces of the people who stare

at your mangled skin

when you leave the emergency room.

Look

dead

into

their fucking

eyes

and then

maybe

you can begin

where my verses leave off.)

If I told you what I really saw

you might burn me at the stack

like

a

fucking

saint;

I don't think that its wrong to make love to my household gods;

or to

make peace

with violence,

after all

we fight

wars

because

someone else

has something that we want.

And if I twined

like a rose

up your arm

would you still kiss me sweetly

like a child

before

I tore away

tainted,

would you take me like a baby

and suckle

the sinking feeling

that stiffens me

behind

the stage curtains-

(go out and please them, baby girl)

(make us proud, baby girl)

(show us everything inside of you, baby girl)

(wear your insides on the outside, baby girl, so that maybe we can determine the right shade of your heart, pink, or maybe something closer to blue.)

(Do it so it hurts, baby girl)

(fake it out,

baby girl

and than take her out

once she's through.)

If I said that my father once threatened to break my neck if I ever came back into the house

would you feel sorry for me.

If I told you that I used to walk through the woods at night, and that a man grabbed me in the darkness

would you reach out

and tell me that it wasn't my fault.

No one ever tells you that not all rape victims are virgins,

and that not all good boys

go as far as holding your hands;

that they kiss

your bruises

bracing

against the greater fall

after all

men

were born

to hurt

women

or so

the bible quotes.

Do I make you uncomfortable?

To much honesty

to fuel your fire?

It only rains at night

during September

so I let

the wilt

wither;

and me?

I'm just waiting

to tell you what I really do

so that finally you can hate me in peace.