1. |
Hard Drive
03:17
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I meant to say that you look sad in all the photographs you sent me of your body in the morning light, your disposition terrified. But the thought must have slipped my mind for the past three or four times you drunk text me at night. Is everything alright?
I meant to speak with truth and prove your lullaby was just a cry for help. And I fell asleep so soft you’d never have to wake me up. But lately you smoke some weed and that way you can fall asleep and dream of me and I’m powerless to stop you.
But I am terrified that lately you have changed your mind just as quick as I had made mine up. And I’m stuck like the insomnia in your eyes or the paintings that I foolishly describe top mind that you wouldn’t dare try. It’s your skin that’s alive on my hard drive tonight and through all of this time you somehow survived to turn my fears inside out.
If I was a braver man I’d toss them out by next weekend. But the thought must have slipped my mind for the past three or four times I drunk text you at night. But everything’s alright.
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2. |
Tapeworm
03:19
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In the backseat you unwind, you used your bodies to pass the time but you’ve got medicine on your mind. Pray to your fickle god and your fickle spine. Alright, I hope you’re negative this time.
And now she’s wrapping up her arms like a mummified rose. I walk to the park alone and I nearly froze. She said, “The paint is chipping, peeling, falling off of the walls.” as I struggle to convince myself she’s not my fault.
I pulled over the car and assessed the situation. you confirmed all my suspicions that we were out of penicillin to clean our throats. At least not ours both. But it’s okay though, ‘cause I’ll watch you cut your hair straight to the bone.
And I wish you had a tapeworm so you would never feel lonely again. He’d keep you warm at night, oh yeah, he’d keep you thin. And baby you could be my tapeworm and keep my mind thin. Maybe you were my tapeworm, you kept my mind thin. You kept it all thin.
In the backseat you unwind, you use a text book to pass the time. You still got medicine on your mind, pray to your fickle heart and your fickle lies. Alright, I hope he loves you this time.
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3. |
Safe
03:45
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My body’s cold from the vent right above my head. I watch you like a shadow checking yourself out in the mirror. And I want to hold you instead. I want to tend to you with my shivering head.
And I will always keep you safe. It’s okay if you and I both go to waste. But you can lock yourself inside me like a safe.
‘Cause I was afraid that I would lie awake weighed down by your heavy heart dragging me through the dirt. But I was fast asleep dreaming of you, dreaming of me drawing you nodding off reckless like the art you are.
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4. |
Birds
02:41
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And as the story goes my mind is made of meat encased in fabric bones atop a thrown composed of my throat with a ribcage full of birds and they sing oh.
And as the pages turn I didn't want to tell you this but I never learn. I read your diary every night before I go to sleep hoping that you'll one day mention me and go oh like the birds do.
Tell me is this everything you want and more? I played my cards and I've evened all the scores. Tell me is this everything you want and more? I want a little bit more.
So the chapter goes by and I shaved your favorite beard and now I'm getting pretty fucking annoyed. But she takes me by the hand and our colors fall apart like chromatic aberration on that polaroid you sent me in the mail. Did you think I would forget now? And still we sing and we go oh in our separate rooms.
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5. |
Year 3
04:31
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Year three we were sitting on the couch. She asked me if I needed help fumbling with her blouse. Year three in the bathroom during class, sitting on the floor with my reflection in the glass. Monday night on my walk home I stop by the piano and confess my sins to him but he’s never impressed.
Year three we were drinking in his room, he tells me I don’t need her and hands me another brew. Year three I wake up atop my bed with a monster in my stomach and some guilt ringing in my head. Tuesday night I’m cleaning out the drawer. I find the pen that Abbie sent me in the mail.
Year three I have so much left to read. I’m constantly running from things that are faster than me. Year three in the shower after class with bruises on my body and I don’t even know why. Wednesday night I stop by the park, I swing on the swing and shout poetry at the wind but he’s never impressed.
Year three I’m ashamed to admit I sewed your photo in my palm and I’m holding on to it. Year three in his room with the mark they turned out the light but her lips found me in the dark. Thursday night I’m stumbling home. Here’s a victory: I stop myself from calling your phone.
Year three I have so little to read. I’m constantly chasing girls who are faster than me. Year three and it’s time to clean my sheets. I arrange the artifacts neatly on my desk. Friday night I’m sitting in my room alone with water in my eyes. This place has become my thrown.
I was waiting there so long that I forgot what I was waiting for. And I was waiting there so long that I forgot who I was waiting for.
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6. |
Photo Album
03:07
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I hate these crowded bars and the people too, but they feel so empty when I’m with you. I wanna look you in the face but I’m stuck bouncing my feet in place. Your eyes are an album of blurry photographs: it’s your graduation cap or the depression naps I take. I don’t like being awake.
And I am slow to start and slower to stop anytime soon.
I read your resignation letter seven times in a row. I had the lyrics memorized like the words to my favorite punk song. And now from time to time I have to remind myself it’s just the draft when I feel the curtain press against my body in the bath. But please before you go, all I really want to know is did I keep my only promise I made in the second song I wrote you? We listen on my couch built for two.
So take this camera with you. I want to see what you’ll do. Because I’m too afraid to leave my room. And you’re fast to start, and faster to stop. Faster than I’ll ever be.
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