Maybe if I’d pushed him harder he would have tried. Instead he fell back into the sofa, apathetic and braindead, not really caring about the lifeless TV programs he filled his life with.
The films frightened him, he said, made him sick with regret. The stale ambition in his stomach festering, brewing a bitter self-loathing. We never go to the theatre now, and I can’t bear to go without him.
Sometimes I parade round the house in a red velvet dress hoping he’ll long for that final curtain call, recognise the perfume I wore to each and every opening night. But he grew old before his time, dejected, and stares glassy-eyed at the wall. I try my hardest, but one day I’ll be too old to parade, and I worry whether he’ll hear me by the time we’re only fifty.
What a let-down. I’d fallen in love with the bright boy, that shone like a floodlight, dazzling and inescapable. I fell for adventures, for futures. Now my days are pale and emptied with the constant worry, trying to breathe life back into that old personality.
He wasn’t “slipping through my fingers”, but his hand never held back any more. I don’t have to lead him, haul him about, but he wanders aimlessly and makes decisions with no conviction. His sure and solid foresight withered and died. That thirst for life had melted away. It happened slowly, over time, barely noticeable, and if you knew him well enough you’d see the edges weren’t as sharp. I am left with a half empty glass. I stayed, thinking I could help pick up the pieces, but his disintegration didn’t work that way.
It’s not that I don’t love him. If I was bored I’d move on, pick up and strut. No, it hurts. Every day that I come home and he’s sat the same place I left him, another small part of my heart breaks all over again. Every time he avoids something that makes him ashamed, it burns all over again. I can’t bear to let him hurt all alone.
Mouth full of words
That you never really heard,
When all we do is play pretend
The whole game seems absurd.
The nights are getting cold.
You’re brave and oh so bold
And while it might seem somehow wrong
You’ll still have me to hold.
I won’t push my luck
But it seems the name has stuck
You heard, you heard
Not my words but theirs
And I can hear the rumours,
Feel the knowing stares
And even though I don’t, maybe
Maybe I should care.
I’m not a test, a game,
You and I are not the same.
Play the part of broken heart;
It follows with my fame.
Your regret is my shame.
I can speak with violent voice,
I can make an awful noise.
You heard I’m heartless, vicious bastard,
I fight like one of the boys.
I am not your toy.
I wish you’d played nice
Because I won’t trust you twice.
You heard, you heard
Not my words but theirs
And I can hear the rumours,
Feel the knowing stares
And even though I don’t, maybe
Maybe I should care
About the name, about the fame,
About the stories circulating.
Maybe I should make a change,
But there’s no sense in wasting time
When your hand is on my thigh
And you press your lips to mine.
I’m not a bad person;
I can be much worse than this.
As the final year has passed
The hands moved jolting, rusting,
Marking the hour with a harsh strike.
Something hidden had failed;
so used to repetition, pattern,
That it wore down, broke through
Unnoticed. The way you used to be
Counting the seconds and wishing time away
Can only be memory, the ghost
Of beloved routine, sunbleached and faded
And I only wish I knew what makes you tick.
Articulate innocent, The drugs in my blood
On paper, on page, Numbed mumbling lips.
But my mouth moulds Tripping syllables
Other stuttering stories Mirror mind and movement.
I carried you home in the dead of night
The small girl, the quiet,
And leant in to taste the air
You promised was so sweet.
My feet are so calloused-
You’d know they were mine.
closenessless:
http://lakemichigan.bandcamp.com/album/meet-me-in-montauk this is what i’ve been working on for quite a long time, it would really mean a lot if everyone who’s interested would listen, download (FREE obviously, duh), share this link, show it to friends, like my page on facebook, tweet about it, whatever. thankyou, hope you all like it. x
PLZ REBLOG.
PLZ PLZ PLZ.
ALSO IF ANYONE WANTS TO REVIEW IT, that’d be lovely.
more self reblogging, please listen to this if you like songs to get sad/sleep/think to, and more specifically if you like music like brand new, american football, mineral, IIOI, elliott smith, keaton henson, etcetcetc. it’s for free download so if you enjoy it please reblog/share the link around because i put a lot into it. more lake michigan stuff coming soon, it’s that time of the year i guess, gonna be seriously stripped back.
Guys, please go check this out. It’s a fucking fantastic album. (Why would I lie to you?)
