Various Poems

5. The Song Is Still Here

When your parents say that you are not enough
And when your friends say you suck
When the world turns around where you can't walk
Listen to the music like it never stops
Cause this is what I'm holding on to
This is why I'm holding on to you
To complete my musical legacy where our love is true
Because the song is still here even though our love is few
Just when the hook stops
The slow-mo breakdown wants
Me to say I love you.

I know I'm your dirty secret like the cookie crumbs you hid under the bed
You wait for me to sleep with my earphones on, take it off when I doze off
Making your hard chest a pillow, and your expensive socks that I borrowed
Crying over your hard heart with sorrow, burned your toys and your promises you can't keep
The care and love that I thought was sincere
Was all just a piece of shit.

You know I got a lot of tricks up my sleeves when it comes to boys
But why do I talk with a high pitched voice and you figured out my decoys
Love songs always have rhyme and imagery
Well mine is a tragedy full of curses and catastrophe.

I'll let you live with your fake girlfriend who lived a life in abject poverty
She's a backbiter and a reprehensible chick and a past filled with indecency
She's not an angel nor an innocent, let's pelt that papier-mache skin to see
The immoderate lies and the unheard issues
I'd rather be my buxom self than to put myself in your dirty shoes
The chasm between symphonies and mockeries
I'll let you sing my song to that phony strumpet who's been desperately trying to be fancy.

You left me alone like I wasn't worth it
You throw me away like a piece of garbage
You forgot about me like a song with a broken sentence
I know it all along but I just let it go and now I'm dying with it
You keep on accusing me to tighten the case
You left the lucky key chain to fasten the pace
You keep on running because you love the chase
Well your love isn't really mine to begin with
I'll just carry the thing that started the tragedy
The mace
The mace that I sprayed at your eyes like a spell to make you my babe.

I knew from the start, you're a whirlwind of fiascoes
I'm a downtrodden imbecile, it's because I loved you so
It's not my fault you're a piteous nuisance that I can't let go
Your song is for me and also for a dozen of girls
You really are an incorrigible soul
Your melodies and smiles are so beautiful but now it's clamorous and such a jeer
Those awfully decorated pinpricks and their madding cheers
Like the poignant screams in my head and the pub's wretched beer
You're the somber breach of my heart, because the song is still here.