The Country House
Will you walk with me to the fence and back? Come, drift with the wind. Am I pleasant company? No cares, no worries and no regrets out here. Your words always melt my heart and release me from myself. I am not ugly, I am not isolated, I am the person you love. The color of burning coals in your eyes makes me euphoric. To touch your face is all I wish, to see you waiting for me. Something that is mine, something for you to see. A place for my heart and a open space for emotions. To be with you is my dream, to hear you laugh my heaven. Life for this feeling, but you do not feel the same. Am I too damaged to be repaired? The old country house is always neglected. Falling apart I wait in the doorway for recovery. The paint is chipped and the style awkward. The interior has a cold draft and the fence distant. I invited you in for dinner, I could use a companion. Salad for one again and a mirror to watch my every move. Waiting on the fence for something I have not yet felt inside. There is something wrong with me, always standing in the field.
Push Up
So what do you see in me? A little boy to lead. I never asked for this. The fun I missed. Tell me now, Ms. P-I-G, what do you see in me? Stuck in a rut. Tell me how I feel! You can see in me. A frail boy to lead. I can see it in you. You are weak too. You like to fuck with me? Well now you see, how it feels! Stuck, stuck, stuck, and fucked, tell me how this feels! You want to be, something to me, but you can never be. Tell me now, Ms. P-I-G, what do you see in me? This is how it feels! When you fuck with my mind! Push up, up, up, make it burn. I push up, now your turn. Burn!
Something Pure
Always feeling bad about the way we look to others, we are never pure. The world makes itself beautiful. Always feeling bad about how I look compared to, what TV can make. The world is ugly but we cannot see. Always feeling upset about the way we look to others, it is all fake.
Inside I am not beautiful.
Always feeling upset about the way I look I never stop, to think about life. The pressure is so great. Always feeling something about the way we look we never stop, to love this life. In our minds we are ugly. Always feeling bad about the way we look to others, we never live for sure.
Bitch
Ask how I feel. One more time. You will see the anger. Nothing but a bitch. Don't promise me shit. Seeing that, I am not loved. In the pain. Content. See my face as a mirror, let it bleed. All for you. Life. Seeing me die, to make you happy. This is the end. Bitch. Get down. On the floor. If you want more.
© 2001 Matt Ricker All Rights Reserved
