Disorder

It's lisa, or laura, i know not her real name

Which is probably pretty or something the same

With her i spoke under, and lived under fed

Without her i hang now, without her instead

We die many times, and each new infancy

Is a surprise ; that i have the tendencey

To look over when it suits me, and decry when not

When i am sailing, or when things go well

Where this vision of death comes, she always leaves

And i bury my head in my billowy sleeves

To marvel at how i must face my own fate

Or deny it, more likely, until it's too late

When i could have kept on at her, with her, inside of her

Instead of letting her weakness successfully hide her

Her weakness and mine, the death of us both

I was more violent, and she was more loath

To see in me a promise of what i could give

And i to see in her a reason to live

Which was past just a symbol of woman and luck

That i would never be lacking for something to fuck

And one to fuck over when things would decide

That it was once again time to go for a ride

We felt we must seize the weather, and never the whim

To be led by the other and not the whithin