Failures swarm my mind like locusts to a field
I cracked my whip but they would not yield
To my command no matter how harshly I spoke
They trample me, belittle me, and I feel like a joke
Not the good type either, but the punch line is me
The funny part is that I can never imagine to be
Somebody other than who I am at my core
I could not be less and I could not be more
All the faces around me, waiting to critique
My style, my form, my shape and technique
The way I park and the type of mother I am
The lover I’d be if I actually gave a damn
About the things I’m supposed to be instead
The faceless masses that exist in my head
Always whispering, always tearing me to shreds
I’ve got a shell that I wish I could shed
A light that I’m too afraid to let shine
A love that will forever be only mine
But maybe that’s the way it’s supposed to go
Maybe there are parts of me that only I know
I cannot fathom the idea of unconditional romantic affection
When every interaction is a symbiotic trade transaction
Where the very basis of the sale is based on how frail
My perception of me is supposed to be, how easy to derail
the truth, because I get a taste of youth and you get some tail.
The terms are unclear, and my dear, you never know what it entails
When you are squirming amongst the remnants of the entrails
Of what society has produced. What we have become.
The toxic waste. The harmful emissions. We are one.
The gluttonous grimy greed of tomorrow
Drowns itself in self imposed sorrow
Distract us from the fact that we are in fact hollow
Babe I can fill your lonely heart if only you’d swallow
But maybe when bio-chemicals meet
As it were, much like you and I
The gasses could be poisonous sweet
(But not enough to make you die)
The element that could make iron erode and rust
could very well be what makes rubidium combust
Miekie Mentality 