you hold your matches like they are your finest weapon
oh you lover of fantasy
tell your living room guests how you've no more faith
in frail love
descend into the room as your most incredible vain loving self
with your limp mind and apple sliced fairy tale dramas
you are always hungry for beauty, looking for perfection
the curved full painted lips, thin arch of back and lull of sensuous hip
go on now
make their mind spin with how you make that strawberry moon
sigh
a lopsided testimony, changing up the speed limit of their hearts at your will
but you always leave out how you hold the candle closer when you're alone, getting comfortable with your fearful ache
becoming happy with your lonely
you don't go looking for safety in lovers
or God - neither will be
where you're sure you'd find them
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