dissolved girl
shame, such a shame
i think i kind of lost myself again
day, yesterday
really should be leaving but i stay
you wish that he would look the part of the big bad wolf; you wish he’d look like he will cheat on you and trample all over your heart or dump you in a week or two. you wish he wouldn’t be gentle and kind. and you wish he wouldn’t look so goddamn vulnerable when he slept – that really is the fucking killer. he snores gently and shifts and you just keep looking over, playing with his hair and smiling like a goofy idiot.
say, say my name
i need a little love to ease the pain
you lie together, after the dirty deed has been done. you love this part. you love that closeness. you want to hang onto those moments, immediately after sex, where he’s a little bit breathless and hugs you close and kisses you.
lazy post-coital conversation follows. he tends to ramble on a bit about the most irrelevant things (well, they seem to have no relevance to sex, at least). he tells you about the score that he really liked, of a jim jarmmusch film where johnny depp played a character called william blake who ran into an american indian called nobody, who mistakes him for the famous poet. you make a note to look it up the next day, on google and imbd (like the little nerd that you are).
'cause it feels like i've been
i've been here before
you are not my savior
but i still don't go
you lie together in the bath...there is absolutely nothing that makes you happier than sinking into warm water, surrounded by bubbles, in candlelight, with a smoke in one hand and wine in the other. both of you are still where you started off. nothing has changed. perhaps a little less self-conscious, perhaps a little more comfortable. but just as afraid.
somehow, the subject of how convenient this is comes up. you’re the one who uses that word, and he doesn’t like it. you elaborate. “its convenient cause at least i know i am getting laid once a week”. he still doesn’t like it and says that he’s in it because it's fun, nice and enjoyable, not cause of the convenience factor. you almost feel ashamed, for trying so hard to be the tough beyatch.
feels like something
that i've done before
i could fake it
but i still want more
when you’re with him and even when away from him, you’re strong and fun and independent. sleep always fucks it up though. perhaps it's because your defenses are down, at the end of the day. it's not just when you're with him - even when you sleep all alone in your big bed, you think of him. you think of where this is going, how it will end, and what’s next.
and whenever you sleep next to him, you keep waking up, as he shifts, to see him smiling sleepily at you or looking absolutely angelic in his sleep, and you just melt...
fade, made to fade
passion's overrated anyway...
(song lyrics from "dissolved girl" by massive attack).
i think i kind of lost myself again
day, yesterday
really should be leaving but i stay
you wish that he would look the part of the big bad wolf; you wish he’d look like he will cheat on you and trample all over your heart or dump you in a week or two. you wish he wouldn’t be gentle and kind. and you wish he wouldn’t look so goddamn vulnerable when he slept – that really is the fucking killer. he snores gently and shifts and you just keep looking over, playing with his hair and smiling like a goofy idiot.
say, say my name
i need a little love to ease the pain
you lie together, after the dirty deed has been done. you love this part. you love that closeness. you want to hang onto those moments, immediately after sex, where he’s a little bit breathless and hugs you close and kisses you.
lazy post-coital conversation follows. he tends to ramble on a bit about the most irrelevant things (well, they seem to have no relevance to sex, at least). he tells you about the score that he really liked, of a jim jarmmusch film where johnny depp played a character called william blake who ran into an american indian called nobody, who mistakes him for the famous poet. you make a note to look it up the next day, on google and imbd (like the little nerd that you are).
'cause it feels like i've been
i've been here before
you are not my savior
but i still don't go
you lie together in the bath...there is absolutely nothing that makes you happier than sinking into warm water, surrounded by bubbles, in candlelight, with a smoke in one hand and wine in the other. both of you are still where you started off. nothing has changed. perhaps a little less self-conscious, perhaps a little more comfortable. but just as afraid.
somehow, the subject of how convenient this is comes up. you’re the one who uses that word, and he doesn’t like it. you elaborate. “its convenient cause at least i know i am getting laid once a week”. he still doesn’t like it and says that he’s in it because it's fun, nice and enjoyable, not cause of the convenience factor. you almost feel ashamed, for trying so hard to be the tough beyatch.
feels like something
that i've done before
i could fake it
but i still want more
when you’re with him and even when away from him, you’re strong and fun and independent. sleep always fucks it up though. perhaps it's because your defenses are down, at the end of the day. it's not just when you're with him - even when you sleep all alone in your big bed, you think of him. you think of where this is going, how it will end, and what’s next.
and whenever you sleep next to him, you keep waking up, as he shifts, to see him smiling sleepily at you or looking absolutely angelic in his sleep, and you just melt...
fade, made to fade
passion's overrated anyway...
(song lyrics from "dissolved girl" by massive attack).
