One Good Day
There are so many things you have to sacrifice in the name of one good day. Like this album, so beautiful it rips holes in me. I only get to listen to it once a year or so. I used to listen to it on repeat for days on end, just painting and smoking.
For some people music is a tether, it keeps them connected to the physical plane. Reminds them to feel on a scale they're not generally capable of writing on their own.
God, why do I feel so big? Why are these feelings so large inside of me like a traitor under my breast? I have a secret.
Sometimes I think there is a lot more wrong with me than I ever tell you.
I don't know how to find contentment in this life, in any life.
Thoughts and emotions are like tumors, they grow silently and unnoticed– killing you all the while. There is so much wrong inside of this world, outside in the world. I think sometimes that it will turn black and begin to peel at the edges. Not just in my head where the pictures are so vivid, but outside where the people are so hurt. So afraid.
I'm afraid I must have been some kind of superhero who missed her dimension by a stop or two. Why would anyone come into this world with so much reception? It's pointless, I'm picking up stations I don't have the heart to listen to anymore. In some other world there must have been a place for a girl like me. I don't know what happened to those voices from my childhood. Stations I didn't have the heart to listen to. I don't hear them now and that is so scary. More scary than before because I fear it means I'm losing some humanity.
No, no. I know. I know. You don't understand. You never understand. No understanding. The mosquitoes are buzzing and the cats are howling and no one understands how to feel this anymore. I think my thoughts and they are scary to some people.
I know, I know. You don't understand. You're shaking me. Stop. Fingermarks in my shoulders and I still can't hear them. I love you and you're so beautiful, you really need a tan. Rasp of whiskers burning reminders into my face and I can't tear you out of there. I don't dream about you anymore and sometimes it's silent when I sleep. Why do I love him so? Because he knows where I live. But no one really knows where I live. Not in this world. Not anymore.
There's no milk for the tea and it's too sweet inside, covering the rot. I know, I know you don't understand but I don't want you to write me songs; just give me something to sing about when the shaking stops and I can pretend she sleeps. You want waking dreams and endless beauty wrapped up in the grayest of days but you can't have it all girl, you can't have it all. Let the edges turn black and peel. You can't have it all girl, you can't have it all.?
imported from G+