1. |
Scopophobia
03:20
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Isn’t it so special to be desired?
Take advantage of it now, before your pretty face expires.
Suddenly, I’m the girl again,
chased and blamed.
Another easy meal, a figure without a name.
But I keep my fingers crossed, I keep my eyes on the clock.
My time is running out.
Yes, Sir, I keep my knees crossed
and pray they can’t tell that I’m lost.
My luck is running out.
Unadulterated, unfiltered, unafraid.
Polluted, so careful, so scared, it’s been engrained.
Isn’t it so nice to be wanted?
They’ve got both eyes on you so flaunt it.
All I want is to be watched by you.
Everything I do is for you.
I’m never myself, I’m never alone.
There’s always a mirror, there’s always a window, there’s always the black screen of my phone.
It’s all just a game, it’s all an intricate performance.
But then again, who am I without an audience?
You turn this body into a cage,
but then again, who am I without a stage?
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2. |
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I paint myself a pretty portrait over the mirror, onto my own reflection.
Is it shaped like a man? Like a real one?
With stains and blood? And loaded guns?
When the head rush hits it’s everything you wanted to escape the day.
Keep a fire in your pocket, breathe in deeply,
smoke of words that you could never say.
Look upon yourself without the critical hatred embedded from your mother’s stare.
Even if you don’t see it, it permeates your mind, that self-conscious fear is always there.
Do you feel the gaze of god? Do you feel their eyes prod?
Can you sleep soundly knowing there’s no hope inside removing all your flaws?
Paranoia taught me right,
everything can hurt me and everyone will try.
I chased sunsets that led me to the Oak Hill steps and when they left I wept.
I run through cemetery grass,
there’s no greater sorrow than finally understanding what you lack.
I’m just a gaunt ghost, hiding from affection.
Why did i think that you’d be the exception?
Stupid to think things could change, stupid.
Letting people treat you poorly isn’t going to make you feel more loved.
Those empty rooms just get even emptier when you’re on your own.
You’ll be nervous, like me inside of churches,
like holding a clay pot with one broken hand.
Wish i was a piece of fragile pottery, but not so breakable,
your kinda man.
I probably just need to be alone.
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3. |
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Every night i dream of forgiveness.
Hold my hand and tell me there’s something left
worth getting better for.
Every night you find me, leading me through parties and parking lots
and you hold my hand as if there’s something good left in me.
Something worth forgiveness.
I wish I could be something worth forgiveness.
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4. |
maria.mp3
01:49
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I could stare at you, staring at your plate all day.
Almost reached to grab your hand and ditch this place.
I was jealous of the wind who swept the hair from your heavenly face.
I was jealous of the birds who sang you daily fearlessly,
I ached to be the bedding cradling you as you lay asleep.
I just wanted to be useful to you.
I could stare at you, staring at the sky til the moon said, “Hello.” and waited for you to say, “Hi.”
Oh, the stars are lucky to reach your golden irises,
a girl who spits up violet ink on languid bible passages.
I’m so lucky to be used by you.
I’m so lucky to be loved by you.
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5. |
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Please tear my eyes from the gallows.
I don’t want to see the pain when I close my eyes.
Their screams of agony just bellow,
ringing in my ears like angels wailing in the sky.
I’m haunted by the image of us sitting in the hay sipping cider.
You’re so tempting with those big brown eyes looking just like Winona Ryder.
I may think of you softly from time to time, but I’ll cut off my hand before I reach for you again.
It’s midnight and I’m staring at the woman next to me.
She keeps a cold home suspicion on her lips endlessly,
but she’s not the problem that she thinks she is, it’s me.
If I could tell her exactly what’s been plaguing me, I’d strip off my skin, expose my guts, begging on my knees,
"Forgive me, lover. Forgive my sins.
This justice system wants me dead, there’s no way I can win."
If God rejects my honest tongue then let him lead me into hell.
No one else will fall for sin,
but myself.
I may think of you softly from time to time.
I may think of you softly from time to time.
I may think of you softly from time to time but I’ll cut off my hand before I reach for God again.
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6. |
Father of You
03:38
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Did I teach you how to hurt without hurting yourself?
I think I taught you how to hand the pain to someone else.
Did I teach you how to take what you were owed?
I think I taught you to take what you felt you could own.
Lessons lost in domination, precious words lost in translation,
at some point we shut down the conversation.
Maybe that was me, I had nothing left to say.
Yeah, it was all me, I stopped trying to get away.
Another day, another day halfway dead,
knowing how you picked apart all of your friends.
Carcases limp in your jaw.
Another day, another panicked glance,
at a man in a denim jacket standing against a fence.
I’ve come to realize, it’s easier to take the blame than recognize how brutally others take.
It’s easier to say that it was my fault than admit how terribly I was robbed.
One day I’ll pay for all of this. I promise.
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Kathryn Valentina New York, New York
Currently stationed in Rockland County, raised in Baltimore City. 19.
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