You’re soaked in bleach for a trend,
acid burning holes through jeans.
You flaunt faded tie-dye tees that
used to be more vibrant.
It stings your eyes to hide
that now forgotten shade of brown.
Insides burned like an exploding sun,
a boy’s haircut on a nine year old girl!
Curls chopped to the ears… Please,
turn away to laugh at that last line.
Some memories fade much faster than scars
from canning on our old dining room table.
You’re on stage screaming not like when we’re talking tables away. Can you guess? Yes, I still feel the same, age might never change that. I’m waiting here for you to finish, to find the things that without, you couldn’t go on. Having a perfect girl, a perfect world. Perfect world. Perfect girl. We’re not living in that world, yet. Before it’s done I think we both deserve a goodbye kiss. I’m screaming, screaming again for no reason. Sun at my back, helicopter leaves trailing, I’ve left my scent, not much more but I’ll be back, I always am, for more… more… screaming… of your… perfect world… perfect girl…
