Quite collected at cocktail parties, meanwhile in my head I'm undergoing open-heart surgery.
Give me your skin as sheer as a cobweb, let me open it up and listen in and scoop out the dark.
Each night I am nailed into place and forget who I am. Daddy? That's another kind of prison. It's not the prince at all, but my father drunkeningly bends over my bed, circling the abyss like a shark, my father thick upon me like some sleeping jellyfi...
