So this is the part where we give up on dreams
Realize adulthood means forfeiting hope
And helping others do the same.
This is where going through the motions
Takes over like a venom,
Paralysis in our smiles
Speaking empty minds from the chamber
Of life as functioned by musculoskeletal memory.
This is the place on where people mark “I was here’s” by skid marks on the road
When we remember to hit brakes at the last minute
Losing that dare every time to just fly and see what survives.
This is how tender scars push us away
How pride and fear keeps us apart
How we begin to understand the bar whores
Taking all that’s left to be had from the fever touch of strangers.
See how soft my skin is,
Ready for the bruising of an unconcerned lust,
The parts of us we can’t make mechanical.
This is where we make up our minds
To be alone in the arms of others
Sacrificing the better parts of ourselves
To steal the best of theirs
Hurting from hurt
Engaged in a love affair with futures
we’ll always be left to wonder “what if”
Until, at least, the drink soothes our minds.
This is what it looks like to die a little
With painted lips and mimicked beauty
Trying to be as anyone but ourselves
Because that person failed us already
And we gave up on faith and forgiveness
To dance it off with the rest of the world,
So don’t mind the ways their hands fall on my hips,
I’m not really here anymore.