These scars are deeper than they seem.
And I told you that.
I told you that so many times.
Each and every one of you were warned.
None of you can hold this gaze forever, each of you looks away in time.
You've all got an answer. Maybe it's that you simply realize my truth is stronger than your blind optimism. Maybe it's that you're too self-centered to realize you missed your mark. Maybe you're just looking for justification for your own dalliances. There's a handful of stereotypes gathering dust in the corners of my last 15 months.
Maybe you wanted a lover and couldn't stand the friendship that comes with it. You were afraid you "got to me", because I paid attention and that was the last thing you wanted. What scared you more, the fact that I cared and still let go, or the fact that you wanted me to?
Maybe you wanted a house pet and couldn't stand the thought of my skin being free range. Knowing that when you abused me and then turned your back another stretched out her hand. Was that your deepest fear? That you couldn't kick me and expect me to whimper at the door when you weren't looking?
Maybe you thought I was the answer to your life's big mystery. If you could just make me be who I was before the truth took me from you, then would I be the perfect man? Did you think that I would heal your broken world and stitch your shattered memories together to make a quilt that a queen would be proud to call her life?
Maybe you wanted a project and couldn't stomach the fact that I didn't just get better in your presence. Did you think I was a lego set with a few pieces misplaced? That my life was so simple that you could fix it with a handful of platitudes and a heartful of kindness?
And now what do you think? Now that you know I'm a burning man with a dangerous game playing beneath my skin.
I'm shouting at the shadows that exist only in the memory of a life lived on the edge of what is reasonable or kind. In time my disease will infect you too. Run little girls before my decay rots your souls and drains your eyes of that pretty glimmer I spoke of so highly.
Life isn't as easy as you think, and I'm your living breathing proof. Do you hate me for it yet?
I should hang a sign in my front yard. "Dreams broken, hopes crushed, reasonable rates, apply within."
I told you that so many times.
Each and every one of you were warned.
None of you can hold this gaze forever, each of you looks away in time.
You've all got an answer. Maybe it's that you simply realize my truth is stronger than your blind optimism. Maybe it's that you're too self-centered to realize you missed your mark. Maybe you're just looking for justification for your own dalliances. There's a handful of stereotypes gathering dust in the corners of my last 15 months.
Maybe you wanted a lover and couldn't stand the friendship that comes with it. You were afraid you "got to me", because I paid attention and that was the last thing you wanted. What scared you more, the fact that I cared and still let go, or the fact that you wanted me to?
Maybe you wanted a house pet and couldn't stand the thought of my skin being free range. Knowing that when you abused me and then turned your back another stretched out her hand. Was that your deepest fear? That you couldn't kick me and expect me to whimper at the door when you weren't looking?
Maybe you thought I was the answer to your life's big mystery. If you could just make me be who I was before the truth took me from you, then would I be the perfect man? Did you think that I would heal your broken world and stitch your shattered memories together to make a quilt that a queen would be proud to call her life?
Maybe you wanted a project and couldn't stomach the fact that I didn't just get better in your presence. Did you think I was a lego set with a few pieces misplaced? That my life was so simple that you could fix it with a handful of platitudes and a heartful of kindness?
And now what do you think? Now that you know I'm a burning man with a dangerous game playing beneath my skin.
I'm shouting at the shadows that exist only in the memory of a life lived on the edge of what is reasonable or kind. In time my disease will infect you too. Run little girls before my decay rots your souls and drains your eyes of that pretty glimmer I spoke of so highly.
Life isn't as easy as you think, and I'm your living breathing proof. Do you hate me for it yet?
I should hang a sign in my front yard. "Dreams broken, hopes crushed, reasonable rates, apply within."
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
posted at 1:30 PM
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