MR. HYDE

dazed and confused/
daisy chains and choosing sides
with mr. hyde and me
blue cheese,
cold knees,
jesus
this happened quickly/
kicking myself,
putting up shelves,
shit-scared of what we’ve started
and where we’ve been
if teenage kicks are nothing these days
then mr. hyde should be my name/
shameless, blaming you for tricks and treats
in the red light district,
trying to distinguish
what makes her distinctive/
having difficulty thinking where to put my foot next
let alone what to do with a girl like her/
certain things are definite
but I've risked it twice before
just to find out that we’re not infinite
and there’s no limit
to the number of times I can fuck it up/
insisting it’s your fault
when,
really,
I’m the destructive one:
godzilla, king kong and all the other monsters of my childhood are nothing
compared to the string of disappointments I’ve become
I'm better off dead than dancing with myself:
introspection at its best/
well,
congratulations,
you’ve made yourself a priority/
sorry just doesn’t cut it any more
when the warning of wet paint you already lent on
is as necessary as the pain you caused her,
not just her cross to bear but yours as well/
you can run but you can’t hide
because in this life it’s all the same,
this modern age, modest mouse, detached house disaster
already meeting you in the form of a bored yawn,
asking you for a last chance before answering with the shrug I’ve become accustomed to,
not knowing that I killed her inside,
sliding the I don’t know between her spare ribs/
in a catch 22 with the cold stare shared
and the hot air between us
and YOU
are my mr. hyde,
psychocandy,
psycho killer,
godzilla,
king kong
and all the other monsters of my childhood
who are nothing
compared to the string of disappointments I’ve become