Narcissistic Fibrosis

I used to think that being
Banally fucked-up would win me
Cool bananas and chocolate brownie points.

While orbiting the little theatres of my life
I'd catalogue experience
And turn it into this.

Incapable of being present and correct
I'd preside over me
Like a laboratory analyst.

Way to go.
Whatcha learn?
How to make and break a boy.
Way to go.
You're a ghost
And the world's a malleable,
Totally intangible nothing.

I still believe that I can fashion
Love from ink, and will and grace,
I mean the attrbutes and not the awful show.

And I believe that someone somewhere
Will see through the tones within tones
And give my heart a go.

And this belief is all we've got.
If it's a lie assume it's not.
Adopt the faith for the duration of the show.

Time to go.
Adios.
Leave your garments at the door.
I'll ascend
At the end
In polystyrene wings
And all sorts of garish, gaudy things.
I so, very, wont.