masturbation nation

i was never good with metaphors
i prefer to say it to you straight.

sometimes people can't handle it
i'm pressured to negate
my natural inclination
to raise issues
and hate hate

some people beat it
i come head-on
there's an underscore if you know how to read it,
a subtle suggestion
detectable only by the willed strong

fuck the nervous, fuck the fear
there's nothing left
once we've torn up everything near
groping for walls that won't crumble
seizing a day that won't resist

building broken homes
out of our broken faces
truing the ties of all our lies
battening down the traces
of all our falling graces

pull me down with you,
i'll sit in a ditch
one hardened beauty, one sly bitch
we'll make fanciful bloodwork
we'll pull each other apart
stitch by national stitch.

a full-fledged war
between one and one more
we can talk about friendly fire,
we can obtusely speculate
the satisfaction of 'settling the score'.

love is an anomaly
life convinces me otherwise
than of conquering the insincere
and bonding slippery fish
with metal bills manufactured here.

my weapons are sharpened with spit
i won't win,
i knew that from the size of the pit
it's in the middle of the battle
that's where i fit
one person can't win,
and one person can't quit.