Been brooding for awhile...
I wonder if I can plumb the depths of them
How far will those black cold pools go?
Anyways, staring at me with cold eyes
Boring into my eyes
Raping my childhood
With the unchecked ferver of a rabid animal,
You're doing it again
Your mouth opens but I know what's coming out
I've heard it a thousand times
I know you want to mold me
To perfect me as you want
It seems you enjoy playing God
So chip away, sculpt, mold, sand
You're an artist
And I your creation, or so you think
And everyday the rage builds up
Like a fire inside I try to quell but cannot
Water only makes it stronger
But I won't back down
And that makes you sad
And it makes me mad
Because you think you can hurt me but I can't respond
Is that wrong?
Furthermore, are my feelings wrong?
You seem to think they are
But then again, you are an artist; you know what's best
So I stand here again
Listening to all I've done wrong
White becomes black
Light becomes dark
Up becomes down
Heaven, invariably, becomes Hell
You yell at me, playing the victim
But I'm the victim: I'm being sculpted
Nevertheless: "I don't care anymore."
Complete obedience you desire
I'm tired of fighting
Is this what you want?
For me to be sub-human?
But I refuse to break
I may bend but I shall never break
And I refuse to let myself be handled this way...
But I do
And it sickens me
And pleases you
You leave me, walking away with a sense of accomplishment
Another fine day's work
I'm alone with my thoughts,
These thoughts,
I hate you for this, but
I love you because I cannot hate
But I hope I turn out the way you wanted.
Words by Xuxa
Read 915 times
Written on 2006-11-09 at 05:30
Tags Sadness Angst Pain
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Thoughts
Staring at me with cold eyesI wonder if I can plumb the depths of them
How far will those black cold pools go?
Anyways, staring at me with cold eyes
Boring into my eyes
Raping my childhood
With the unchecked ferver of a rabid animal,
You're doing it again
Your mouth opens but I know what's coming out
I've heard it a thousand times
I know you want to mold me
To perfect me as you want
It seems you enjoy playing God
So chip away, sculpt, mold, sand
You're an artist
And I your creation, or so you think
And everyday the rage builds up
Like a fire inside I try to quell but cannot
Water only makes it stronger
But I won't back down
And that makes you sad
And it makes me mad
Because you think you can hurt me but I can't respond
Is that wrong?
Furthermore, are my feelings wrong?
You seem to think they are
But then again, you are an artist; you know what's best
So I stand here again
Listening to all I've done wrong
White becomes black
Light becomes dark
Up becomes down
Heaven, invariably, becomes Hell
You yell at me, playing the victim
But I'm the victim: I'm being sculpted
Nevertheless: "I don't care anymore."
Complete obedience you desire
I'm tired of fighting
Is this what you want?
For me to be sub-human?
But I refuse to break
I may bend but I shall never break
And I refuse to let myself be handled this way...
But I do
And it sickens me
And pleases you
You leave me, walking away with a sense of accomplishment
Another fine day's work
I'm alone with my thoughts,
These thoughts,
I hate you for this, but
I love you because I cannot hate
But I hope I turn out the way you wanted.
Words by Xuxa
Read 915 times
Written on 2006-11-09 at 05:30
Tags Sadness Angst Pain
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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Kathy Lockhart |
