January 17, 2006
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PSTD Spends The Evening
While Pearl Talks To Her Lover
And Seeks Solid Ground
The girl with scars
on the back of her neck,
you know,
the one
with the long silver hair
hiding in the long blonde hair,
the one looking in the mirror,
she needs to go,
gotta bug out of here
where's the door now.
Now!
She can't stand
the ambiguity
and if that's not it,
she'll find
something else
another reason
why
she has to go.
She has too many imperfections
and she really can't stay.
That's it.
Where's the door?
There's the razor blade
bared
on the thin edge of hope,
and she can't live there
because she bleeds.
The door,
where is the damn door.
Stay for the promise?
Sweet.
But promise
never stuck well
to my skin
and the sweetness
always slides off
getting that barbed wire
out there
in the open again
snagging my fuckin' life.
Don't call me lover,
but you can punch me
if you catch me
in time
before
I hit the door
better hurry
I'm gone.
Gone.
I'm out of here.
Let go my arm.
And if you won't,
use those,
use the old holes,
it's easier,
I've been crucified
on wanting's cross before.
The holes never close
fully
how dare they
you won't have to hit so hard
since they're still open.
Let go
please let go.
That girl
with scars
on the back of her neck,
you know,
the one
with the long silver hair
hiding in masquerade
as blonde,
that girl?
She's walking
right back
into the black place
where it's easy
and the night has names
she understands.
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