I'm in the city you hated; my eyes are fallen. Counting the clicks with the living dead - my eyes are red. I'm in the crush and I hate it; my eyes are fallen.
I'm having trouble inside my skin
I try to keep my skeletons in.
Is it weird to be back in the south? And can they even tell that the city girl was ever there - or anywhere?
Im having trouble inside my skin
I try to keep my skeletons in.
I'll be a friend and a fuck-up and everything; but I'll never be anything you ever want me to be. I keep coming back here where everything slipped, but I will not spill my guts out. I don't need any help to be breakable, believe me. I know nobody else who can laugh along to any kind of joke. I won't need any help to be lonely when you leave me. It'll be easy to cover: gather my skeletons far inside, it'll be summer in Dallas before I realize.
I don't want you to grieve, but I want you to sympathize; I can't blame you for losing your mind for a little while (so did I). I don't want you to change but I want you to recognize that I have. It'll be easy to cover.
(photographs by Ryan McGinley)
