Whore

Let's get high on pot and poppers
kiss me in the middle while I'm on all fours
tell me it's delicious, tell me you need more and more
let's make up for all the times we tried but couldn't
the times I wouldn't take it,
and you were lousy
let's give it one more shot
I'm so much more open than before
and you'll love it because everyone does now

Stuck

I’ve got an ex who’s managed to wiggle himself inside so many men
some have been inside him too
every guy I meet knows him
and I always manage to find out later on—
there’s his big fat fucking face
smiley and squint-eyed
on their dashboard, their feed, their followers list
the world’s too small
New York’s really tiny
or he’s just a great big whore
I cringe
I cringe like a melting witch
God damn it, will he fucking disappear already?
Why is he still here,
everywhere?
I believe in signs; I pray to them, in fact
but, I don’t get this one
what’s the meaning behind seeing the wicked man you once loved everywhere you go,
in people you think will set you free, give you peace...
have all the arms in this city hugged him too!?
I can't help but wonder: is it some spirit thing,
some twisted subconscious thing
making me seek the ones he’s already devoured
because I miss him devouring me?
Maybe I’m attracted to them all because I sense him in them too
I mean,
I can still smell him to this day

I'd Rather Go Blind

If I were Ursula, I'd probably steal a voice
you'd hear me loud and clear

"Who's that boy singin'!"
they'd all go,
hand to their chests
like a heart attack's on the horizon
feelin' my words, feelin' my soul, feelin' my self—
the pain, the love, the truth—
all up inside them bodies
they'd listen
finally
and everything coming out of me would make them see me

It'd be beautiful
and it's a pity we can't choose our talents
or give up some other human thing
for another
'cause, I'd rather go blind...

Take my eyes, good God, and give me a voice