Rambles of Myself

Hitchin' a ride down the roads of nowhere,
My bullet proof heart unflinching to the sound.
The sound of your curses as starlight was the only thing to guide us.
Stripped down to the basics, we stopped caring about the drive and more about the journey.

This is my life story.
Rays of sun dripped in acid left to burn everything it touches.
This was a story about a girl.
Pushed so hard back against the wall all she knew how to do was hate the world.

I don't care about your sympathy.
When I hit the floor I get back up so I don't know what the fuck you're worried about.
I hear the people sing.
Nourishment through bloodshed as their lyrics bite down to the skin, just to save their own.

Most times, I just try to survive until pure morning breaks to take the next shift of my fuck-ups.
Not all is bad though.
I live in the secret Earth not many care to find, but I don't mind as I know it'd probably be ruined if people knew where to go.
Believe me, my attitude isn't a fashion statement, typical angst, or five steps away from a death wish.

I've often wondered what it's like to be ignorantly blissful of the troubles around you.
The story about a girl as I've said before forgot to write that chapter.
Of of desperation and boredom I flick across paper money, wondering if it promises at least a semi-decent cup of coffee.
Just another day in the life of the American woman.