a self-portrait painted on anaheim landscapes

I did what I do best, forgot myself
Got overdressed like everybody else
A glance and a half smile
Black heels on the white tile
It took seven years for your path to realign…

~*~

i am made of torn skin

and overplayed stereo songs

and a million miles to cali

and washed-out daydream colours

i’m lost; some would say gone

and my stares are silent dynamite

i remember what i throw away

again my tongue detonates

and i’m searching for meaning

in a world that’s as meaningless

as a crude april first joke

and not in the least bit funny

but i’ll keep on looking anyway

and maybe it will make sense

in some parallel universe someday

where time doesn’t wear my skin

and songs never sound the same

and cali’s just a tiptoe and half away

and the daydream never fades.

~*~

Gone, doesn’t it feel good to be invisible?
Gone, just like the way I used to be
Gone, have I been fading away?
Yeah, I’m so gone, gone…

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