you wanna know a secret? i don’t know what i’m supposed to write anymore
‘cause i don’t have answers
i don’t even have the questions
and i think i don’t work hard enough
i think i work too much
spinning through the days
in a dizzy blur of wicked tree-branches
and jagged words, cutting up my tongue
wrap it up in sherpa fleece lining
and tuck it under the bed, where it’ll never see the sun
you wanna know a secret? i am a hypocrite
i am lying through my teeth
hanging on by a thread from the telephone wire
as the flames grow higher
you wanna know a secret? i am bloody
and used-up, and this art i’ve made will never sell
until it sells too much
until they’re looking, they’re all looking
and my name doesn’t feel like my own
you wanna know a secret? i don’t know
if i’ve got it; that bird in my palms
’cause i’ve strangled it out
i’ve spent whole evenings worshipping the light on my phone
i failed, i failed, i failed
a million times over, i end up alone
’cause the people i love, they are leaving me behind
the moonlight streams in through my window, the stars are going blind
so in high-pitched piano notes
hold my heavy hand in yours
and walk me all the way home
It’s been a weird year/decade/week, and to be honest, I’ve been feeling really burned out. (Yes, I realize the irony in posting this online, but here we are.)