Natalie Merchant

"My Skin"

Take a look at my body...Look at my hands.There's so much here that I don't understand
Your face saving promises whispered like prayers...I don't need them
I've been treated so wrong... I've been treated so long as if I'm becoming untouchable.
Contempt loves the silence it thrives in the dark with fine winding tendrils that strangle the heart. They say that promises sweeten the blow but I don't need them, no, I don't need them.
I'm a slow dying flower, frost killing hour, the sweet turning sour and untouchable.
O, I need the darkness, the sweetness, the sadness, the weakness, I need this. I need a lullaby, a kiss goodnight, I need this. Do you remember the way that you touched me before, all the trembling sweetness I loved and adored?
Your face saving promises whispered like prayers, I don't need them, no, I don't need them.