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My little Glass Shoe
by Mark and Ins
http://www.geocities.com/insomark/
You and me and she and he and he
And we agree to be happy happy happy
and we will be completely in control.
We want to go to Paradise
Everyone there says it's so nice
Everyone's got their own TV
with their own episode of Biography
and everyone's got twenty-five lovers
and each of them dreams only of me
Got to find Tomorrowland...
Do you know how hard it is to mark Slayer flesh?
Probably not. You're just not the type. You wouldn't spend idle hours
cutting yourself just to watch the skin reform, smooth and flawless. You
wouldn't carve your girl's name in big, block letters across your flat little
stomach.
My name wouldn't fucking fit across your stomach.
Slow-dripping hours with anything sharp enough to do the job. BUFFY,
the little arm of the Y creeping up towards my ribcage. If you do it
backwards, when it starts to heal, there's a few minutes where it's
just... B. You can write it upside-down and look down and the word
stares back up at you, innocent and dark, dark red. BUFFY.
You can even use a knife wound like an underscore. Did you notice the
way it tugs with every step?
I only ask because I noticed something. Ghostly little dents, fitted right
above your collarbone. Two little imprints, no longer angry wounds,
just a little history. And no doubt about it, you earned them.
I guess you do know how hard it is, how to make it permanent.
When your dream comes true you're out one dream.
When your dream comes true you're out one dream, yeah...
You did it for him, and I want a turn.
I'll make it easy on you. You can't do it yourself, can't take the pain,
don't sweat it. Baby, I'll do it for you and you can keep crying wolf. You
can pretend that it's something done to you and not for you.
I can't resist. I can't help it, because water slides perfectly off your skin,
because it's gonna hurt like hell, because you wouldn't let me scratch a
trail down your back, because I have time to kill, because I have you to
kill, because you're beautiful like a blade, sleek and cold and untouchable.
You can pretend you never felt it.
I left you a clue, a mark a trail in view
My work my art my little glass shoe
Leave the ball while you're hot
so they remember you.
I can feel the rush of air and blood in your chest, the expectation. But
there's no need to fear. Don't think I acted rashly. I thought about a
tattoo, something bright and gaudy. But, thing is, tattoos just aren't the
same since laser correction came around.
So I was thinking, if there's one thing I like about Angel, it's his subtlety.
Some might say it stems from an inner confidence. I don't have to
embarrass you in front of everyone with a big, flashy signature. I want
to take you by surprise.
There's a moment, just before the brand hits your skin, that's every time
you've ever touched me. It sinks in and I feel like it's moving right through
us, eating a path into your body. You couldn't do it yourself, grip the edge
of a tattered chair, pants half-undone, catch your tongue between your teeth,
beg some oily no-name with a ragged bandana to hold it there longer, fight
the smell, push it beyond the limits of human tolerance, to make sure it
works. This will never fade.
It only takes a minute and the bite is so lovely, spinning outwards from
that one little spot. But I know the sensation won't be mine forever. Maybe
you'll feel it right away, or glimpse it in the mirror. Maybe someone else will
tell you. I thought I'd never want to leave this body, but I know I can give it
up now, if that's what it comes to. Going for broke. It's a beautiful thing.
Yeah I left that ball, I walked out fast
'cause I knew that the good times couldn't last.
I left my shoe so that you would take it
But I kept my heart so you couldn't break it
Yeah, I left that shoe behind for you
to remind you of our love.
Got to find Tomorrowland...
FAITH, letters formed with sharp angles, the leg of the H edging towards your spine.
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Lyrics from the Nields' "Tomorrowland," on their CD Play.
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