Lust Disease

Scrape the excess – good from my head.
Paste upon me – the waste that’s made me whole.
I peel so softly – my favorite pet.
I’ll erase it – if the face won’t fly.

Cut along the dotted line,
and find the hidden face,
I know it will replace
the one I left behind.
Remove it from the sheet,
and hang it up to dry.
Leave it until it’s ready to crumble.

In the closet – it will be the same.
Same as always – as it was before.
Fore the widows – came crawling through my head.
Head, weaving – webs of lust disease.

Painted happiness – hiding my weaknesses.
Tape my eyes shut to set my mind at ease.
Force the glue out. Feel my soul burn.
I will trace it if the face won’t stay.

I feel not a thing,
for this picture inside.
No way, no where to take,
the loosening places, the faces that hide.