1. |
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Do you like looking at me sideways, maybe through a mirror in your headspace? I never liked these lenses; they always made things too grey, so what are you? What do you say?
You hold me close, you make me shake. It's cold, so maybe it's a better pain. But would you love me less if I confessed sometimes I'm afraid to dare look back + see it's gone away?
You make me want to dig out my organs through a hole in my chest. How many times can we make it look like an accident that I'm barely dreaming but I've been sleeping even less (+ you've been there much more often, lately, I confess)?
I'm the luckiest loser in the stairwell. Gun to my head, colors in the window, they pass without a storm. How dare we ever allow ourselves to come + go + not be felt?
Falling, yes, I'm falling, my organs spilling out a hole in my chest. How many times can we make it look like an accident that I'm barely dreaming but I've been sleeping even less (+ you've been there much more often, lately, I confess)?
You make me want to dig out my organs through a hole in my chest. How many times can we make it look like an accident that I'm barely dreaming but I've been sleeping even less (+ you've been there much more often, lately, I confess)?
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2. |
Over (How We Compete)
03:25
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You've been obsessed with your mental health, locked in your head, in your room, can you help yourself if nothing you share makes it to ear level, keep remembering Robin Williams killed himself? Mama says he's just like me, but what the hell does that even mean? Am I fated to love + live helplessly? Does it matter if I don't amount to anything at all?
I hear you've set up camp in bed, with a mirror hanging overhead, + I've known you to say you'd never lose + then, last week, I hear that you've lost your head. + they say that you're just like me + they say that you belong with me. Oh, why do I believe the things that they say? Why do I accept the things that you say at all?
Why are you looking back on your life like it's over? It sounds like what you'd have told me so I told you. Can you really stand to let me win, like I had to crumble to let you in? I know that saying that won't get you to do nothing, but I want to.
You know what it's like to wait in bed + to over-romanticize the dead + to never wish aloud because there's too much regret but, if you wait it out with me, maybe we both forget. + maybe this is how we compete + maybe now, for the time being, we get right--or so we believe. + maybe oh, my love, this is all we need, I know.
Why are you looking back on your life like it's over? It sounds like what you'd have told me so I told you. Can you really stand to let me win, like I had to crumble to let you in? I know that saying shit won't get you to do nothing but I want you.
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3. |
Massachusetts
03:32
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I lost the weight that I put on when I was off my meds but, still, I lie awake at night, wondering when it will end. Then you call me up + we fall in love over whatever the hell is in my cup + mindless chatter. Who says it doesn't matter? Because everything means so damn much to me.
I could spend an evening dissecting the timbre of your speech, crafting lines to waste our time, + extracting lyrics from our eyes. When did I stop missing Massachusetts while I slept + replace my dreams with visions of your lips,
your hands, the color of the light on your hair as you dance? Why am I not as tired as I've been when I look in your eyes? Why am I not as tired as I should be when you take over my night? I'll scratch your likeness on the backs of receipts + the pages of my literature. Could I scare you away, make you wish you were here?
I've written love songs to try + get my friends to save me because maybe, if we were sure of something, I wouldn't need no one to save me. I used him. He used me. Called it love, called it symmetry. Here we go again. I won't do it again because you mean so goddamn fucking much to me!
I could spend the dead of night making progress with my mind, perfecting my art with you on my wall underneath the dimming lights. When did i stop missing Massachusetts while I slept + replace my dreams with visions of your lips,
your hands, the color of the light on your hair as you dance? Why am I not as tired as I've been when I look in your eyes? Why am I not as tired as I should be when you take over my night? I'll scratch your likeness on the backs of receipts + the pages of my literature. could I scare you away, make you wish? Could I make you think,
"Why am I not as tired as I've been when I look in your eyes? Why am I not as tired as I should be when you take over my night? I'll scratch your likeness on the backs of receipts + the pages of my literature. Could I scare you away, make you wish you were here?"
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4. |
College Degree
03:08
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I've been a mess for way too long. I guess that I played my cards wrong. + I used to think I had a plan, but everything dies in the end.
But you threw up a peace sign with your college degree, + you drank your weight in alcohol + smoked a ton of weed + then you died.
I bit the hand that made my bed. I dive in a sea of Percocet. It's time that I admit I was wrong, yeah, you took the blame for way too long.
I stare up at the blue sky with my college degree. + I've drank my weight in alcohol + smoked a ton of weed, + now I'll die.
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5. |
Line 15
02:59
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I'm a psych patient at my university because they like to cover their asses. + I tell my doctor that I've been doing well when I haven't been showing up for classes. + I don't know what to say when my parents ask if I'm getting what we paid for. I pray to anyone that they don't.
I met someone when I was over there. He made me wish that I was right back here. He's not why I can't write more than two whole pages, double spaced, but he's much nicer to think of than my, quote, "disabling" fears.
We seem to melt into each other every goddamn time we touch, and I can't get that thought out of my head. + there were some things only we could know, but that was just a year ago as if, somehow, we both knew that the world could end.
+ I hope that he still thinks of me--stupid + pathetically--but I'm much more fine with that than this, quote, "disability."
+ my doctor says I hate myself + my parents say I hate myself. Maybe I do. Is that why I can't do the things I said I've always wanted to? Is there the slightest chance it's in my best interest? I've got white noise on at full blast--the only frequency that I can stomach--+ I pace until I fall asleep, + then I wake up running.
We seem to melt into each other every goddamn time we touch, and I can't get that thought out of my head. + there were some things only we could know, but that was just a year ago as if, somehow, we both knew that the world could end,
+ then it did.
We seem to melt into each other every goddamn time we touch, and I can't get that thought out of my head. + there were some things only we could know, but that was just a year ago as if, somehow, we both knew that the world could end,
+ then it did.
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Ani Ces San Antonio, Texas
Queer, Chicanx south central Texas singer-songwriter Vic Garces combines a passion for poetry, melancholy, and rock music alone, in a closet, with an acoustic guitar that doesn't entirely belong to them. You might know them from Other Plans.Or from the paintings. ... more
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