Were not men and admissions like this poke holes in holy men
Im just play-acting, navigating my way through relationships and
Emotions with well-timed nods and much-rehearsed smiles;
I pretend to care more than i listen.
Your sincerity used to be something i envied,
Now i cant understand a word you say.
Because im cold and hardly even embarrassed to admit that my chief concern when im at your house late at night
Is what time i need to wake up.
Im on cruise control: no ups, no downsjust a middle road with
Occasional late night rides:
Artificial roller coasters and an alarm set for me in the morning.
It might be sad, but i dont know anything about that.
I weigh more these days, i feel thicker
Layers of rough, calloused skin with dense bones and endless sheets of cartilage and muscle.
The people around me smile and talk and breathe and it all means
The jukebox plays songs that used to start revolutions, but those days seem far away
And even my own words, they dip down into me, trying to believe
Themselves, trying to echo loud,
But find nothing to bounce off of.
I speak sincerely about emotions that ive only read about,
And i dont care whether people believed me or not by the time i get home.
I dont touch the flame, i do sniff at the perfume, and i always keep an umbrella nearby
But i lie because none of it registers and i feel nothing
Fires dont burn and the rains sure as shit dont soak.
And all i really want is a stabbing
I want to kick the addiction
I want to feel a goddamn thing.