Anxiety Time Machine

Constantly running
Running to or from the shame
The fear of fame begets me, the fear of fortune found me
All that Dead Girl Theory surrounds me

I don’t want to become a corpse too.

So shall I run? Or become a slave because shame begets me? Toiling for a witch like an unskilled mage

Ex-lovers haunting me
But they’re not quier dead
For goodness sake
Don’t let them find me
For I am ashamed my beauty is fake
Or to see realistically, how quickly my glass house can break

Platform after platform
Trains, undergrounds and buses
They’re all coming to fast now
I can’t concentrate

Fear of being exposed as a fraud surrounds me
They’ve sent the Gestapo to get me
The gunshots go off arround me
But I am still alive. Still breathing.

Advertisements
Tagged , , , , , , , ,

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: