Mcarthur Park Bad Girls

When I was 8 I heard a two songs that made me pitch a fit for my first album.

One made me feel powerful and one broke my heart, but I didn’t know why.

I’d listen to the album over and over and sing my little heart out.

The songs pulled from me emotions that I knew were to someday come and I was frightened yet intrigued by the pain that was in store.

Life warns us about stuff, ever realize that?

After Ed there was Prison

For 9 years I had more cold sex than love.

For 9 years love turned on it’s heels and ran for the border.

I don’t Pity Party. Trust Me, I made do.

I even had some truly remarkable romances that made me think I had love

But what can really replace love?

Can Sex? Power? Money?

I don’t know. I can’t remember anymore.

I’ve fought the real stuff for so long, keeping it in my Box with Ed’s hair and memories.

I miss that Rat-a-tat-tat at my heart’s door

And I’m freaked…really freaked that I may not be able to answer should it happen

Because Ed won’t let me.

I know this. He was my love, but He is dead, and that box has done me more harm than good.

His spirit has not cared who I fucked as long as my heart was in the box with his hair.

But I put it back in my chest recently

I let a man come over this week and kept my hair down trying to drown out Eds whispers

I love you I love you damnit Hello Hello

I cooked for him

And Ed raged

I kissed him

And Ed bled

“Someone left the cake out in the rain. I don’t think that I can take it, cause it took so long to bake it, and I’ll never have that recipe again.”

I’ll never have that recipe again

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