
Date of issue: 17.06.2013
Song language: English
Tramadol |
Here’s an ode to the things we can’t control, and how they take hold of us. |
Like fuel to our lust, gasoline in our guts, touch a spark and let the flames |
grow; |
If I tried to describe it, would you understand? |
Or would you feign sympathy and wait for it to pass? |
I never asked for this, maybe it’s what I deserve |
Too weak to control it, left only to purge. |
You never saw its true face, so you couldn’t see the fatigue. |
Not so much that I needed sleep, just how some things make you weak, |
so you don’t |
notice the blood until the knife is twisting. |
But I recall in the emergency room, with the curtains pulled, how you said you |
knew, |
but you stopped; |
and I don’t need an answer for why, I guess you learned not to |
cry, |
my pain taught you to cut yourself off. |
If I tried to describe it, would you understand? |
Or would you feign sympathy and |
wait for it to pass? |
I never asked for this, I guess it’s what I deserve, |
too weak |
to control it, left only to purge. |
But I can’t, and it hurts. |
First it’s clear, still cold in my throat. |
Then my lips, |
then it’s black, like spitting up smoke from the fires in my lungs. |
Then it comes, |
and it’s thick and it’s red, and it comes and it doesn’t stop, my insides all |
cut up and bleeding |
out; |
that’s how it feels, that’s what it’s like to give up. |
And I’ve been |
giving up, |
it’s like I’m hardly alive; |
trudging through nothing to the other side. |
There’s no |
point; |
I’m sick of trying. |
Name | Year |
---|---|
US 60 | 2010 |
Gold | 2010 |
Commonplace | 2010 |
Tuesday | 2010 |
Summer Storms/Winter Leaves | 2012 |
February | 2012 |
Sleep | 2012 |
Funeral Home | 2012 |
our city is a floodplain | 2012 |
Sleepwalking With You | 2012 |
Suburban Asphalt | 2012 |
Grinstead | 2013 |
Fever Dream | 2012 |
Nosedive | 2014 |
Knife | 2014 |
A Toast | 2014 |
Use As Directed | 2014 |
Criminal, Animal | 2014 |
Exit 123 | 2014 |
Chestnut Street | 2014 |