A sweeter downfall than you
My biggest downfall was not you. I did not love you first, nor will I love you last. Spektor croaks into her mic like she's dying of her last breath, the spear of her love piercing her as she falls into it. Like I fell into you.
My biggest downfall was... trying to love myself. Over and over and over again, I'd fail to do so every time. But you came back, you resurged, hopelessly and fucking endlessly, with different faces every time. Your masculinity, a rusted nail; I, your bride.
But your masculine wasn't truly masculine, it was a gender–bending, skin–melding, half–completed, fractured and whole all at once, beautiful and delicate, dirty and sex–funked, open and achingly kind of masculine.
I was nothing; blank–maybe–or a little uncertain. I waited, slowly oozing out of a plastic cast of my body that was, eventually, nothing really. Because the problem wasn't that I wasn't yours, but that I wasn't mine. My head, an artifact you found once waling through an endless museum of heart maladies. Number 6, sitting alone up there.
My biggest downfall was... trying to love myself. Over and over and over again, I'd fail to do so every time. But you came back, you resurged, hopelessly and fucking endlessly, with different faces every time. Your masculinity, a rusted nail; I, your bride.
But your masculine wasn't truly masculine, it was a gender–bending, skin–melding, half–completed, fractured and whole all at once, beautiful and delicate, dirty and sex–funked, open and achingly kind of masculine.
I was nothing; blank–maybe–or a little uncertain. I waited, slowly oozing out of a plastic cast of my body that was, eventually, nothing really. Because the problem wasn't that I wasn't yours, but that I wasn't mine. My head, an artifact you found once waling through an endless museum of heart maladies. Number 6, sitting alone up there.
Comments
Post a Comment