The carpet sits beneath me, a dirt painting on the ground
another pretty girl pants under your silhouette
you wanted a cracked water main, but I am a blood fountain
how do you discipline yourself?
my body, an afternoon performance
"I do love you, but I'm not in love with you."
Only some dirt gets to be mud - wouldn't it feel good to be stepped on?
When he is bored, all things become an entrance
I was a tender object living in a home you'll never invite me to
Turn screams into moans; call it healing
Looking up from a pair of thighs, I wake up like a lap dog
When I ask how he wants me, he does not answer
What a privilege to be bored rather than bound
See no victim, only pleasure seeker
Do not stop until you have frightened everyone
until you can hold a thorn without bleeding
until you hide panic into laughter
until this intersection of trauma and pleasure
means nothing to you
another pretty girl pants under your silhouette
you wanted a cracked water main, but I am a blood fountain
how do you discipline yourself?
my body, an afternoon performance
"I do love you, but I'm not in love with you."
Only some dirt gets to be mud - wouldn't it feel good to be stepped on?
When he is bored, all things become an entrance
I was a tender object living in a home you'll never invite me to
Turn screams into moans; call it healing
Looking up from a pair of thighs, I wake up like a lap dog
When I ask how he wants me, he does not answer
What a privilege to be bored rather than bound
See no victim, only pleasure seeker
Do not stop until you have frightened everyone
until you can hold a thorn without bleeding
until you hide panic into laughter
until this intersection of trauma and pleasure
means nothing to you