I've become a function of
Make-me-happy pills
Highway-death-fantasy thrills
Living on black market blood
Paid for on someone else's bills
It seems the most effective
Of round-robin contraceptives
Is my memory of you
Though faded now just to expletives
And the density of my waistline
Grows with the shrinking of my spine
So I sit in waiting rooms
Just longing for my own time
I spell my scars with magazines
And stalled car scenes
Turning my pain into pulp plots
For the cut-yourself teens
In a fading light from a failed star
Locked room shadow boxing is how I spar
I sold my memories of you
So I owe you a debt, wherever you are
Now let's talk about my ugliness
As I bury the stake in my own chest
We could have had a family
But instead gave birth to this mess
And I'm the doctor in the operating room
I'm the one that impregnated your womb
I was also the patient holding hands
With the black tie optional groom
I used to shoot myself for fun
Blamed my sixes and sevens on my number one
But when you shoot yourself into yourself
You don't need glue because you're always undone
And in the waking world I miss
In this cancer sleep I guess
It separates me from life
And what the real meaning of "me" is
I wasn't going to say it but I might as well
I think I do this for myself
But without a sense of me
I might as well be someone else