Apathetic Antipathy

She’s drowned her soul in popular opinions
She cannot read a map even if it’s on her favor
Lights a cigarette to fog in smoke the recollections
She doesn’t like the smell but she loves the flavor.

Her body’s precious but she gives it away to the public
She likes the attention; she likes all of the praises
Her broken wings make her image look less than angelic
She would sell her soul to find a heart that is virtuous.

Surrounding herself with vultures hungry for dead meat
She can dance with the flow but she doesn’t get the beat
Time for sleep, time to rest, high as a kite, there she goes
She can leave behind this universe but never her ghosts.

She’s kept herself to a shelter made of wood
She cannot see what’s ahead even if it’s up front
Snorts up the white dust cause it makes her feel good
She doesn’t like the mirror ‘cause it makes her feel runt.

Her life‘s precious but she gives it away for the applause
She likes the recognition; she likes all of the worship
Her distorted introspection makes her look like a lost cause
She’d trade off her salvation for someone to give a shit.

Surrounding herself with leeches thirsty for young blood
She spins around all day just to face fall on the mud
Time to party, time to live, low as her esteem, so it seems
She swims against the river but never its streams.

She’s apathetic with a survivor complex
Her antipathy burns like acid through anyone’s core
Self-medicating to subtract the effects
That alter her persona; she doesn’t know who she is anymore.

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