a pig in a wig is still a pig
a slut in a wig is piggier
a wimp in leather is no badder or better
ugly plus makeup is no prettier

dogs in collars are domesticated
girls in collars want to be degraded
they look for a man with a leash in hand
but end up alone and deflated

the allure of the void and unemployed
is only present in polaroids

you can cough out a copout about why you’re a dropout
but those are details you can’t crop out

 

 

 

 

I'm too sensible for self-affliction,
Though sense in life seems fleeting.
I will write my feelings off as fiction,
Left with nothing but this flawless diction.
While blood affords some meaning,
I'm too sensible for self-affliction. 
As I try to shake this cursed conviction,
My parasite keeps eating.
I will write my feelings off as fiction.
How long can one live without addiction,
No feeling, sweating, cheating?
I'm too sensible for self-affliction,
So I act out life; this bland depiction
Of hearts that feign their beating.
I will write my feelings off as fiction,
There's no escape in this crucifixion.
My will is fast depleting,
I'm too sensible for self-affliction, 
I will write my feelings off as fiction.

 

 

 

 

we’re conducting electricity
your hands laugh as they desecrate my armor
this morning my cast iron skin glimmered, undefeated and ready for you to dare now it’s in heaps at our feet