Of differences: of what we want and what we are by JMS
We can sit there
on front porches,
wishing our life away.
"I'm gonna be a doctor!"
Well I'm gonna be whore
you two-cent, snobby, rich, little bitch.
I can't follow you.
Don't you see I am sick?
Oh yes, in that perfect world I am just
your servant, your lover, your enemy, your player
and I can't stop you.
You don't pick through the lies.
That smile I use to hide.
"It's so much easier to smile than to cry."
The ultimate lie.
Mam said she loved me.
Loved, past tense
leading into and dipping towards
a well of hate.
And you're still an angel
You never even tried.
Oh how life is so utterly great!
You are the clown
the mime, the ultimate act.
You though I didn't see?
You forgot your lines again.
What a shame.
And here I thought you could rival me.
You almost guess correct.
But you are still so naive.
Weren't you ever taught?
Oh but now you think
that you could stop me?
Don't call the police.
It isn't necessary.
See!
Of you can't see.
You're stuck in the darkness
Of my skin the patterns of scars
have never shown.
To tell you the truth,
I fell in love with your world's views.
Can I come with you to Happy-Pappy Land
and grow up without war or chaos?
Of course you say so.
Stand up to them and come with me! you say
But that jerk of the arm
and crazy look in his eyes.
I stay.
I am sorry,
I am weak.
I never wanted to say good bye.
I wish I was you.
I wish I was perfect.
I wish I was free from pressure.
But in the end.
In the end.
I am nothing but a fecking whore.
I could tell you what I wrote this for, but I would like you to pick it out and give me some meanings please! If you don't then, honestly just go away.
