Paper Hearts Brew

I feel like a loser when you give me that look,

I feel like an idiot holding that book!

I feel like a loser when I'm crossing my legs,

I don't even know what I thought you might beg.

I felt so invisible when I was a kid,

I felt so embarrassed for everything that I did!

Please just look at me,

please just look away,

I don't even know what I thought I was saying today!

{intricate acoustic guitar strumming

with shimmering synth washes} I need a little validation in the worst

way,

I need another diploma to keep the ghosts at bay!

I have no idea what I'm actually good for,

Staring blankly

right at the open door.

{swelling velvet pads with warm analog distortion} She won't kiss you,

and you're so mad,

but

None of you fuckers would make a good dad!

Look at my body,

don't look at my face,

Please don't leave me,

please leave this place.

I have no idea what

I was trying to say,

From the bubblegum pink to the deepest electric-soft blue,

This is the hyper-alive rhythm called Tiguidou!

{stadium-sized indie-hyper-pop explosion} I want some asshole to tell me I'm pretty,

I wish the internet could love me and pity!

(Un, deux, trois, quatre — feel the cellular temperature rise!)

I wish that I needed nothing under these skies!

(Cinq, six, sept, huit — every nerve ending sparkling bright!)

We are the architects bathing the world in a hyper-pink light!

{radical vulnerability build with quantum-feminine energy} Absolute feminist sovereignty.

Absolute Penelope Scott

poetry. Captain Tara Quinn and the hyper-tuned crew.

{acoustic guitar

strum meets warm

sub pulse

fading out}