and trust me, just trust me
I’ll let you right the fuck in
like it’s 2008 and you’re a Swedish vampire
no invitation needed, you can just
blink your eyes real slow and shit
and I'll be all nice and flattered
when I tell you that, for you, I’m a poet
and I, the Count, count my lucky stars
walk the skies at night
just because you don’t expect us to be in love and
you and I
don’t know why we’re like
this, who did this to us,
but you’ll hold my hands in the red warmth of the night
at the Communist bar (for the second time, not yours but mine), like
I’m trying to reinvent memories,
reprogram that night
(in her chaotic hair, all of her perfect, and I knew, I knew then I wasn’t worth it and I didn’t deserve it)
(and is a parenthesis enough to convince you that i'm over it)
(i hope so for for me it is)
and here I am, instead with you (lucky)
attempting to hypnotize you, trying to get you lost
in me and all my perfect mystification
(yes I’m perfect darling, just let me in…)
(don’t worry about the long white whites of my teeth…)
(just let me in…)
of this place (ahem) and not me
if I can lay my hand on your forehead
break your fever, guide you under
with the blinding city lights,
my true god (sorry to the rest of you idols)
let you pretend, let the both of us pretend
IT’S ME and it’s us that’s doing these things to you
when really, it’s this city
doing glories to you and me
and when this is through, when we are said and done
all eyes dotted large, all T injections shot (say, x years from now),
when I’ve got it all unlocked
you’ll look back without regrets
and know you had fun
with this thing I say I am
and I’m too young, but I know my goddamn fucking shit and I always,
always, darling, I always stand on business
yes, I’m a somewhat drunk, but I’ve got the confidence
and everyone and their mother knows it
oh God, I think I’m getting older
and I’m living in limbo
just trying not to fall asleep in hope for the resurrection
and oh my God, not to worry, we’re just friends
(and xyz things i would like to do but cannot write here)
but I digress, I digress, I digress—
I could save you from the state you’re living in
I could dig you up, make verses to you,
and breathe life into you again clean
with a borough on each finger
I could show you how to love again
hold my hand, just let me convince you that
all of this is right, just let me get it right with you
I’m always right, or at least good at pretending, or at least
trying too hard
