whatever happened to my eyes, happened to your beauty

Control is all that matters. 

Maybe.

To me anyway, it’s all, all that matters. Fuck.

I will throttle you before I give up my control.

                                            “I’m glad I know you, George Bailey”

Give me the fucking reins, and let me steer this antler-toting dog down the mountain.

I’m fucking exhausted, so lets please hope it’s for the best.

See, all I can think of are slugs, and summers, and  secrets, and sex. And spite. There’s (always) often a bit of (a lot of) spite.

I left a woman waiting

I met her sometime later

She said, your eyes are dead

What happened to you, lover

And since she spoke the truth to me

I tried to answer truly

Whatever happened to my eyes

Happened to your beauty

O go to sleep my faithful wife

I told her rather cruelly

Whatever happened to my eyes

Happened to your beauty

- Leonard Cohen

See, all I've got are other people's words. WHATEVER HAPPENED TO MY EYES, HAPPENED TO YOUR BEAUTY. all I can do now is say it over and over again with emphasis and heart.

Whatever happened to my eyes

happened to your fucking beauty.

Your eyes are DEAD. See, that's what she said.

Whatever happened to my eyes happened to your beauty.

She gets what she wants and she breaks what she gets