Fool Afraid of Love

Dear Lord just give me everything that I want,
feed me a bit more,
so it can,
it'll make me content just for the day.
It's a promise that I'll break
because after all
everything about everything
is always just about me.

I can be sweet,
just enough to rot your teeth.
I can be honest,
just enough to be blunt,
about how I just can't stand your ways
because after all
everything it's about me.

You didn't get the memo?

If I could get any more sick
I might just be able to love You
almost as much as I hate you.
I could throw up
and be rid of everything that is me
and return this status quo
of not knowing
or wanting to care anymore.

Why did you set this stirring in my heart
just so it could become a blister
an ache driving me further insane?
Just cut it out,
slice out this heart
and indulge an old serpent
whose only sole concern
is about no longer feeling.

I would rather be blinded
and loose my touch,
have my words stolen
and never utter a sound
or write another trite verse.
If it could just make you happy
I would gladly cut off these ties
and loose everything
that ever made myself
just myself about myself.

Just a few grains of sand
and I'll be done,
don't worry
everything is fading
and soon enough
my voice will be stilled.
No longer a burning
or an ache
just an empty vessel,
worthless dust to dust
and back to the dirt
all without a single fuss.