a quiet death

turn off the lights with shaking fingertips

and go to bed, you don’t have a fucking clue girl

close your eyes, and search your soul

’cause you’ve got work to do

claw out your heart and set it down in the kitchen sink

that won’t be good for the septic field

dissect the little veins, close your eyes

and sleep it off, cast your mind to that funny place

where you’re five years old

and everything is okay, ’cause it sure as hell wasn’t then

rearrange the memories in your brain

until it’s all blur

turn on your phone, and put it all out there

in exciting headlines

and advice columns

’cause i know, i know

how to make it pretty

make it sweet

crush the ligaments between rubber tires

and don’t think about the things you have to do to survive

even when the bass feels like it’s going

to crack my skull right open

lay down the flowers along the rows of graves

but it’ll take you a lifetime to get to know the dead

but it’s fine

it’s all just in the name of progress

isn’t it?

and in the end, we’re all gonna be grateful

for a hundred thousand quiet deaths

cupped in my palms, running through my fingers

like bathwater

sticky-sweet, and so alive

I’ve been watching a lot of dystopian TV shows, with some pretty disturbing imagery–which is not a good idea for me (at least in big doses, so I’ve been trying to limit myself) because my brain is not too great with dealing with violence and gore. I would pay so much money for a streaming service while any blood or gore is blurred out, or it gives you a warning before a jumpscare, because I cannot handle it. I can read it, I can listen to it, but if I have to see it I will not think about anything else for weeks. It’s like, the media equivalent of eating a ton of candy, even though you know you’re gonna feel gross later, and you kinda feel gross now, but right now you just can’t stop. Anyway, it’s I think this is where that piece came from, but I’m honestly not 100% sure.

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