you're pretty in the kind of way the compliance is dull
nerves in our subversive brains
you'd think that we don't believe anything
shoved at us as an artless fact
ideal or dressed to a T
and that's not to say that you aren't pretty
because you're beautiful to me
we don't grow well
when we huddle in groups and we cry all the time
and we obstruct the emphasis on routine days
and i don't really care about the future
i care about what keeps you away
and i choose to acknowledge anger when no one's ready to listen
like at these ostentatious parties
and i'm half drunk in this crowded kitchen
and i yell 'you're a fucking hypocrite
you wear your fear under your makeup'
being passive or being hostile
its good to smile to avoid the closeup
its a violent incentive, i just jerk you around
and you're always disappointed, we both feel tied down
its an eternal conundrum, why we do what we do
and we always discontinue what we don't misconstrue