godless woman

HAVE YOU SEEN YOUR FACE
HAVE YOU LOOKED IN THE MIRROR
DO YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE
DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING
HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND
CAN YOU STAY A BIT LONGER
ARE YOU HIDING YOUR BROTHER
IN THE OLD DUSTY CORNER
DO YOU LIKE PLAYING CUPID
ARE YOU ASKING FOR TROUBLE
I TOLD YOU I COULDN'T
I WARNED YOU I WOULDN'T
I TOLD YOU YOU'RE FOOLISH
I TOLD YOU YOU'RE STUPID
I SAID YOU ARE MAD
AND YOU STILL DIDN'T LISTEN
HAVE YOU PARTED YOUR WAYS
HAVE YOU LOOKED IN THE HAZE
DO YOU WONDER IT'S GONE
DO YOU SEE THAT IT'S WRONG
CAN YOU LEAVE ME ALONE
FOR I KNOW WHO I AM
AND YOU GODLESS WOMAN
YOU KNOW YOU ARE STRONG

tidal waves

these dreams, these dreams
they haunt me
but what do they all mean?
to differentiate between visions and waking life
i feel as though a ghost
unfazed, unhinged
asleep and surreal
mechanically senseless rituals
forgetting my surroundings
banal and strenuous interactions
remembering and wondering
what does it all mean?
i feel as though unravelled
listless and tired
to drift back into them
into the sea of my subconscious
(that floats upon the crashing waves and sways gently with the wind)
of which i pine for

yes, yes, yes,
the tides of my mind

ode to toronto

oh toronto
how i cry for you
all the city cries tears of blue for you
oh toronto
how sad
the sky shines in brilliance for you
i cry for you
i cry petty tears of darkness
for your years of earnest effort
i cry for your fur coats
and your sharp-right cut-eyed glances
i cry petty tears of darkness
for all your prima donna sluts of highness
oh toronto
i cry for your privilege
your fancy clothes and your make-up
your concerts and your fake stuff
oh toronto
how i cry for you
i just gasp in horror
at your silly little venture
oh toronto
how i cry for you
for your privilege
for your grandeur and your ego
for your delusions that you can't let go
how sad
how terribly sad

it all is

i'm not sure if i have something to say
but i feel that i do
i'm not sure what to say or how i feel

uncomfortable with happiness

au naturel

pale as winter

growing up

25 is getting old
i realize i have a been a bad sister
falling in love like a teenager
missed calls, voicemail
i gave you a few months
old man i am not interested
that window of opportunity has been shut closed
young lover you heal me
make me young again
aggressive tender sweetness
perfection

your ego

and your mind

are not aligned