you’re hot, you’re cold—

you’re hot, you’re cold — 
you’re mostly cold.
I pawned the ring you said you sold.
I won’t feel guilty
well, I might.
I took it from your hand last night.
you left; I can
leave too, you know.
I’ll stab you sweetly when I go.
but it’s all right
you’ve done the same
it’s just a little lovers’ game.
a bloody handprint
on the door
teeth scattered on the kitchen floor.
tears slowly filling
up the tub.
bottles stolen from the pub.
the shards of glass
the dulling knife.
I don’t know if you’d call it life.
I don’t know if
you’d call it love.
you’re just my sacrificial dove
I’m just your
sacrificial lamb.
it’s such a pretty little scam.
these vows we break
these lies we tell
we do it all so very well.
a song, a flame
a circus ring
or any silly little thing
that’s brave and bold
and has no chance
faced with mortality. I dance
across the stage
on bloody toes
the music stops, the public goes.
and I dance on.
my footsteps fall
loud in the empty concert hall.
I dance for you
I dance for me
I dance for what will never be.
I dance for what
has always been.
for never going home again.
for chains, for wings
for sex, for tears.
for all the time we waste on fears.
for all the time
we waste on love
and counting on a god above.
and what is waste
and what is true
I think it all depends on you
and me, and god
and random chance.
and either way I get to dance.