kiss me and it might heal (but it won't forget)

they say that the only people worth changing for
are the people who don't want you to change.

you said you liked me just the way i was
or at least i thought you did

[even Napoleon couldn't interpret
      without the //Rosetta Stone\\
          only where do i find a plane ticket to Egypt
              and will they let me stay when i get there?]

but ba-ba-baby; lies are all you know
and i'm tired of staring at your back
as you turn and walk away---
yet another thing i did wrong....

hey, at least you tried;

so i wrung out my h#e#a#rt
grabbed it by both ends and twisted
just like a wet rag that's soaked up too much mud
and needs {washing} in the sink.

maybe i was a bit too careless
because now i'm searching
for    needle    ---->    thread
but all the needles have vicious e.y.e.s
and the threads crumble to dust in my
        [oh so so so] clumsy fingers.

then i got ((high))
  ---flying on searing acid trips
          and soaring on clouds of crystal white--
and when i came t-t-t-o....

there were zipper tracks running up my heart
and stitch (track?) marks along my soul.

i didn't do a very good job, i guess.
no way in hell i'm offering you this piece of messed-up shit.

so i'll run down to the dollar store
pick up one of the plastic 0000000's
pay for it in crimson-washed silver

take it home;
try it on...

all right.

here you go.

it's a bit grimy, but--

squeeze out the blood and call it my heart
cuz that's the best i've got...

                                  ...now.