Personality Disorders - _,_,_ __ __ ____ ____ _____ __ ________ | Текст песни

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We are in your parents' house and the living room is quiet. Pictures of youthful complexions stain your living room. The blinds keep out sunlight and you tire of watching the television turned on. The couch is tacky and uncomfortable like the mess of bills that litter the dining room table. When I sit next to you the universe feels empty. Words pulsate around the room and become flesh. No one knows what to say. Recollection of your bedroom and how it looked more like you, or what I imagined to be you. You are succinct in action and I thought there would never be anything more than this. Together we work out the question of our ages, the cold does nothing to help. Watching each other undress to the tune of "why should anyone give a shit" and the sunlight pours in to hide your face. I didn't feel like seeing you today under my breath and we leave for a dream I have where I am hitting you and hurting you and someone is screaming and your voice is in distinct contrast to how I feel as my fist makes contact with your face. I hate the way you look. Your face is damaged and in another dream you are sitting next to me on a train. The seats are orange, and the rails are direct. The motion syncs with the words that are now entering conversation. Apologizing to a blank stare, I dig my head into your shoulder and then your chest and fall into the empty universe of your body's anatomy and float by the dark spaces that hide the parts of you no one knows about. No one knows but me. Skin turns white and leaks into the carpet of your living room where the television is on and there is a movie playing with no clear protagonist and your mother's voice fills my ears. It's sweet and sincere and reminiscent of simpler times. Long for affection and shut your eyes, look at me when I speak to you. You're the filthy shadow following me, and I wish you were just an unclean memory. But you're not and nothing changes. Nothing ever changes.

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