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guilt and a hunger to please it

by still real

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1.
my unsettled emotions, just like moss on a tree, are hanging down just to remind me about all the branches that break in the winter. without your warmth, my bones start to splinter. in the summer, people think that i am rich and full, but i am always hollow. i close my eyes and pretend i can't see, but i am always listening. the air is cold and my hair is wet, and my mind is full of thoughts i regret. and i just sit here on a bench by the river, thinking about how my life could be better. and it takes everything that i have not to jump in and never come back, and i would rather drown and die than to live that 9 to 5 life. and i just sit here all damn day, staring at bills i have to pay. and as the flowers wither and die, so will i by the riverside.
2.
last night, i was in the warmest place i've found in the past six months, and then i heard the sound of your phone ringing, your girl trying to hit you up, and she said: "cuddle me to sleep. tell me that it's all in my head. tell me that i'm the only one that you ever want in your bed." but she's no good for you, and neither am i, but i want to be. do you only want me around because you need me? and your old girl, she's crawling around in my head. i flinch every time i hear my creak and think that she's knocking to tell me that i am fault to take her out of my arms to tell me that i am everything that i've thought myself to be i am a cheat. i am a liar, and i'm not the one who should feel tortured.
3.
She tells me every night: "I gotta go. I just do not know how to fall asleep in a bed that's not my own." And every night, once she's gone, I reach over and hit my bong that's sitting on my bedside table. Oh, fuck. Maybe I should just get drunk. And I am done putting up with all the shit you put me through. Here's to the end of the punk rock duo and their psychedelic motherfucking cartoons. She would always ask me: "what do you think will happen next?" And I'd reply every time with: "how the fuck in the world should I know?" You always fuck around and talk about that drama fucking bullshit. I don't care. I don't fucking know and I don't care. And I am done putting up with all the shit you put me through. Here's to the end of the punk rock duo and their psychedelic motherfucking cartoons. "Is that really what you think of me? Do I mean that little to you? What about where I factor into this? What about where I belong?" Maybe I should talk to you instead of writing all these damn fucking songs, But I won't. 'Cause I am done putting up with all the shit you put me through. Here's to the end of the punk rock duo and their psychedelic motherfucking cartoons.
4.
I've been pathetic for as long as I remember, Shaky hands and undelivered suicide letters. And I would cry in the back of class in high school, And the teacher would see my face, and I would hang my head in shame. And I'm alone and I can't breathe. Anxiety attacks are becoming too much for me. I cant say or do anything I please Without second guessing or stepping over someone's feet. And I wanna die, But I wanna die with you. I wanna fall asleep and never wake up again. The last thing I see will be your face, And I won't worry ever again about this place. And I've been sad for as long as I remember. People would hear me crying in the stalls of bathrooms. It never helped being in there with there with the wrong gender, and I would write on the walls "I do not belong here." And I, I wanna die, And I'm alone and I can't breathe. I don't belong here. You know I don't belong here. I wanna fall asleep and never wake up again. And I wanna die. I wanna die with you. The last thing that I see will be your face, And I won't worry again about this place.
5.
i don't quite know where we are right now. i am lost, and for once, i don't mind. a smile mid kiss and her stoned green eyes. you're scared of the truth, and maybe that's why you lie. and i don't have you figured out, but i'll put in the time. and if you don't want me around, then the punishment fits the crime. you're so beautiful and i'm delusional. and she says, "there are more people against me than there are for me, and that's what makes it so damn hard. i don't feel worthy." and i just said, "i'm sorry," an empty-headed apology. i don't know what to say. i just want you to feel okay. and i know you don't have it figured out but i'll put in the time. and whenever the music cuts out, we can sit there and sing the lines. you're so beautiful and i'm delusional.
6.
she told me, "i don't know what we mean anymore can i come over and we talk? i want to be civilized but you make it hard when you don't say a word." but now i won't look at my phone. i'd rather be in my room alone 'cause i know i meant nothing to you. i was just an empty shell you used to hide in, you used to hide in. i swear i'll flip my shit if i hear one more goddamn word from your mouth about how you're sorry, 'cause you're not fucking sorry. you're ridden with guilt and a hunger to please it. you're a prisoner to your own treason. don't tell me that you're sorry, 'cause you're not fucking sorry. (she told me, "i don't know what we mean anymore can i come over and we talk? i want to be civilized but you make it hard when you don't say a single goddamn word about what you're thinking.")
7.
eyesore 04:32
there ain't a reason i should believe a word that you say, and there ain't a person alive who can convince me to stay. and if the poison is gone, then tell me why i feel this way, 'cause i swear i'm choking from the grip that is wrapped around my neck. so tell me why i don't believe in you. so tell me why i'm so desperate to feel anything. my mom would tell me that i'm not the center of the world, but to me that's where all the gravity pulls together, and i'm dying under the weight of my own bitterness. and the only thing that makes me feel at home are my percocets. so tell me why i don't believe in you. so tell me why i'm so desperate to feel anything. you couldn't understand this feeling if you tried. i'm starting to think i'd be better off if i lied to myself, and this bong on the shelf, saying that i'm doing this for my well-being and health. take a pill, or two, or four. you can always have more. can somebody close all these curtains? this light is an eyesore (this light is an eyesore). yeah, all this light is an eyesore. so tell me why i don't believe in you. so tell me why i don't believe in me too.
8.
white powder 05:42
'm living in a corpse that does my bidding, And I'm a prisoner in these walls, wondering where you are right now. It's been a while since I last saw you, I wonder if you've changed, And though I promise her I will stop, I somehow can't stay away. It's not about endorphins anymore, this is about dependency. This dirty habit is smothering me, but I would sell my soul for another line. I could reach in my pockets, and they'd turn out empty. I'm starting to think it's a waste of time. Staying up all night, and talking about nothing. She is indifferent, and I do the loving. This situation can only get worse, at the end of the night I'm overwhelmed. The only thing that can calm me down, is the thing that locked me in this cell. "You didn't do anything, honestly. It's just hard to explain. You didn't do anything wrong. Can we just leave it at that, please? I'm sorry I hurt you; it was an abrupt situation. I needed some things sorted out. It's really fucking hard to explain. Stop stressing and take care of yourself." It's hard to think positively When all we talk about is what I did wrong. If you were in my shoes, you'd do the same goddamn thing, But I still believe the excuses you tell. I try to reassure you, and say your feelings are valid, But I'm scared. Oh, I'm scared No matter what I do, you will always see me in that way.
9.
i don't know why i try to be anything better than i am. i get drunk at every reunion. i am the family embarrassment. and i am sick of everyone being loud, no regard for anything themselves, and i am sad to say that i am one of them, too. and she can see me through the window down the street and she is mouthing something to me, but it doesn't really matter anymore. nobody comes sneaking through my back door to see me. biting my tongue and holding myself back. i never fight but you can hear my knuckles crack. i'm a coward with a smile. i am a fool without a cause. i am prepared to cut you open but not to sew you back up. and i will shut my bedroom window and never let the light in, and i will breathe in all the dust from the times we came back from walking the streets at night. and no one can see me through my window anymore. and no one can see me though my window anymore.

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released March 8, 2016

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still real Georgia

just a miserable kid

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