Tonight you stoop to my level.
i'm your mangy little whore.
now you're trying to find your underwear,
and your socks,
and then the door.
and you're trying to find a reason
why you have to leave.
i know it's cuz you think you're adam
and you think i'm eve.
and you rhapsodize about beauty
and my eyes glaze.
everything i love is ugly,
i mean really --
you would be amazed.
and just do me a favor,
it's the least that you can do.
just um...
don't treat me like i am
something that happened to you.
i am...i am...i am...
truly sorry,
sorry about all this.
and you plot a tiny pin prick
in my big red balloon.
as i slowly start to exhale,
it's when you leave the room.
and i did not design this game.
i did not name the stakes.
i just happen to like apples,
and i am not afraid of snakes.
i am...i am...i am...
truly sorry about all this.
i hearr you and your anger hurts
i hear that it's with, with
with....
so i let go the ratio
things set, things hurt.
as i leave you to your garden,
and the beauty you prefer.
i wonder whether this will have meaning
for you, when you've left it all behind.
i think i'll even wonder
if you meant it at the time.