Take my word for it, I’m not worth it. I ignored you all night and you don’t deserve it. Morning, bathtub, my skin soft and hot. I was sure you were right, but you’re not. I contemplate my ruined fate. Someone will hurt me so bad one day. And you’ll resonate or I’ll apologize or maybe I’ll make the same mistake twice.
I hide from phone calls under the warm water. Malice desists, no it woefully recurs. And it plays like daytime tv shows. I confuse you. And I tell you not to love me but I still kiss you when I want to. And I lament, you’re innocent, but somehow the object of my discontent. And its fucked up. I let you in even though I’ve seen what can happen.
You make a tape. I receive it in the mail and I force myself busy. The diversion will prevail. And I will swallow all my guilt with little pills and forge my chin up. And I will only think about it in the morning, in the bathtub.
Algernon Cadwallader // Look Down (Because the Ground Is Easier to Understand and Doesn’t Take So Much Work to Figure Out But I’d Rather Not Know Where I’m Standing and Have An Idea of What Life Is All About)
you could build a sunset with a pile of sticks and break my heart with it.