Your boyfriend, he doesn't seem to like me
Is it because of our make-believe imagining?
That you are free, that I am me
and everything about it is perfect and pretty?
I doubt that, I can't follow it through
because everything I am just reminds me of you.
Its this self-loathing, self-masturbatory self-loathing
the one where I'm important
and you are listening.
Four years, four days
I've waited for you.
Is it too late for me to be true?
Because everything I am, its reflected in you.
You know its true, and you don't know what to do.
I catch your eyes from across the room.
You push me away and then you pull me to your womb
our garden, our garden's in bloom.
cherries, tomatoes couldn't ignite this gloom.
And boom! You're all about the bed.
Passing it off like its all in my head.

That's fine. I'll except that I'm nuts.
I've heard that from boys and I feel it in my guts.
It doesn't hurt, like it did before.
I still want more and I can't wait for what's in store
for me
for everything that's worth.
Even if its nothing, then I guess I'm just cursed.
But I'm fine.
I'm doing alright.
I'll just move along like I do every night.
Just wait for me, and I'll wait for you.
We'll see what's at the end of this dark, so true.