Even when I was younger
I could feel your slimy sculptors hands shaping every uneven feature of my body after your fantasies.
Forever crafted to a silent
Excessive perfection.
Fingers digging out all visible flaws,
Yet you still arent satisfied with your work.
Ill never breathe or blink or look you in the eye.
Ill never show a single sign that Im alive.
The time will come to break the chisel
That hacked away our trust.
Ill never speak or think or spit straight in your eye. Ill never show a single sign I can defy.
You need to understand its what youve done to all of us.
As you approach, Ill always freeze right where Im standing, heart beating faster under the cold,
Hard clay that has become my skin.
Its buried so deep,
Youd never know it was there. But youre seeking something.
I can see it when you examine my every feature for something more than what youve designed.
Ill never breathe or blink or look you in the eye.
Ill never show a single sign that Im alive.
The time will come to break the chisel that hacked away our trust.
Ill never speak or think or spit straight in your eye. Ill never show a single sign I can defy.
You need to understand its what youve done to all of us.
Weighed down by my own heavy splendor, Im just a statue to pose at your parties, surrounded by a stiff, leering mass groping for a feel of the new old trend.
But what more can I give you besides my rigid presence?
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