Confusion of the Century

The craving for complexity
Simple is not what I need
The glory of rebellion has faded
This is clear, vinegar, honesty
The arrogance of imagination
The substance in routine
I cry about my selfish winter
So deep rooted is my fear of me
The Coldplay lyric comes back again
Oh, the want to numb the pain
Words are skin on me as they skin me
Unique, perplexing qualities
All the women I can't see
The examples I seek to need
Is it okay for me to seek my freedom?

So differently from ones around me?
Can I live how I want to?
Is that okay?
And will I be?
Through this confusion of my century?
An Artist or a Woman?
Do I need to choose? Exclusively?