3.
He speaks to truth and reminds her of the innocence of youth. He reminds her of a time of peace, fear is indoctrinated by lazy priests. Everyone tries as best as they can, but it can be crazy to speak, so there is safety in the pen. Discomfort unwelcome and lies currency, honesty is the new insanity. And so we share our needles round for more, fuck each other like discount whores, forever in love ends when it’s a bore, and the new STD is hate and people want more.
Taking injections of hate to feel normal, since we search for love and happiness in only the external. In our world, pain comes by the ounce, and we shoot it up by the pound. We inject our poison into – the you that’s in me, forgetting the I that lives in within you. A pound of pain is probably happy, a pound of pain is the best we can do. Over and over the truth is found, yet it’s so hard to pin the right words down. Like ice in a fire, there’s nothing to hold on to and loneliness ever present cuts you through. Over and over the carousel goes round, it’s easier to forget the entire truth, and it’s easier to take out your problems on youth.
Red feels as though her psyche is cracking, she feels the truth, but the demons are cackling. Grandmom said sex when you marry, but she hasn’t seen the footlong her man is carrying. Besides, it’s different now and then. She likes the drugs, no one’s a vir-gin, behind her mask, she hides her grin. We all blame ourselves for guilty sins because of shit claims from religion. A religion we don’t even believe but is a screen with the power of projected guilt driving our insanity until we can’t be rebuilt.
Insanity is a blind belief, and asking some questions is surefire relief. What if Red isn’t as bad as everyone said? But how can you get it through a hooded head? You can’t answer a question never asked, especially in a movie called “Here’s my past”
Why should any of us really trust? It seems like in love it’s lose or bust. Rare is the real, and the constant is fake. Is it really true to find your heart, it must break? But all this pain can force shadows into light. Red learns there’s no difference between wrong and right. Yet onward goes this horrid blight, passed down words of guilt and judgments. Lullabyes and lies, we were settled into our nightmare every night, the monsters you built by projected fright. Fairy tales were for teaching lessons, fear is best for encouraging repression. Dreams are no longer for our making since our will is best if we let you break it. We were all born for creation and fun, we must stop believing in the pain we can’t outrun. Sick of the noises, it’s time again, to be the bad girl she loves but keeps hidden.
Smiling her devilish grin, she takes him down and deep within, listening to him start to moan, being a slut feels more like home. Is this history repeating, more sin within? Wouldn’t Hell be the only place where fun is forbidden? There has to be a better way. Rebel without a clue today, tomorrow a slut with penance to pay. We’re two-headed dragons arguing away
Continued
Mah Butt Itches 