(Shannon Wilsey On The) Starry Stairs

They asked for more
What do you think this fan club is for?
I slithered up each rose corridor
I kept a warm, safe place at my core
Before I lost it

They asked fo blood
What do you think this woman is made of?
I stuck a small, thin pin in my thumb
They dreamt a low, long line to be crossed
And I crossed it

I'm alive,
But a different kind of alive
Than the way I used to be
I retire
To a split white smile to be seen
In some old stag magazine

And these girl's eyes
When they were roughly wrenched open, I
Could see a starry stair up your thigh
You hid behind your hair
Oh, but I saw you smiling

While all these guys
All these curious sets of eyes
Safe behind a TV screen
I let them pry
Pick apart and hang up to dry
Almost every piece of me

(If you don't love me, I'm sorry)

Oh, what a trip
Oh, what a shimmering silver ship
Oh, what a hot half-life I half-lived
And the stripes and stars,
How they stripped
Off of the siding

When my life ripped
Off from the part that played as a kid
Into the part that blazed through your lids
To find a warm, safe place
And to sit curled up inside it

So here's goodbye
From the part that's staying behind
To the part that has to leave
To the sublime
Lips that were never spoiled by a line
To the face inside of the beam
Who wasn't me