Alexa

How is it that I have come to lose my grip again? I’ve climbed this shitty mountain time and time again It’s the same mistake with a different face I’m sick to fucking death of this sunken place. I’ll be very very sorry in the morning. Am I Dante Alighieri as Nadia Vulvokov? Hey mister casting director – just where do you get off? It’s hard to see the allegory when you’re the punch line of the story. I’ll be very very sorry in the morning. I lie to my therapist; it’s a congeniality contest and people-pleasing is the only thing that puts hairs on my chest. I’m trying to recline supine with a ballerina neck But every time I relax my spine there’s a chuckle from the back. My fairy godmother fell asleep with a cigarette between her teeth. I hate everyone. I hate everything. I hate myself to sleep. I’m the snake in the garden making everything soft harden If I’m not allowed to be small, neither are you. I want someone to gag me, To choke, dismember, and drag me. Punish the body to purify the mind. Grind me down to a husk, a rind So I can climb So I can climb So I can climb The mountain in the morning.