Complacent - 2005
It doesn’t break you to see me destroy myself,
all you need is redundant promises and assurance.
You’re turned on with just a lick, and that
gets you through the rest of the day, my dear.
You like me better when I’m not high,
but my medication does just as well.
You like it when I stomach my food the right way,
when I tell you, “That was good, I’m really fat,”
but I’ll fucking work it off on the road tomorrow,
in the gym, and in the sack
because I’m good at being the top.
It doesn’t hurt you when I say
that I want to be somebody else but,
of course, I’ll always be stuck with myself.
And I always look forward to good times,
even when it looks like I’m not expecting them.
You always want to see me happy
but you won’t let me destroy it.
I want to destroy it-
this face and the mirror
and the clothes
and the love.
But it doesn’t fucking hurt to keep my mouth shut.
I still bleed along the arms, away from the wrists,
because that’s where none of the pain appears to be
as long as I watch it, cutting across the lines.
And I’ll always want to be with you,
that way nobody else can see me.
I wish that you were all I needed.