dropsybaby

[dropsybaby]

Man, you’re a man, you’re a man.

I put out my hand to my old friend just to tap at that cosmic link

You write back like you’re God’s fucking gift, you’re “on the straight and narrow”. As if you’re calling the shots.

If I tell you I dreamt about you, it’s the link I’m checking. Not your dick. Not your misplaced lust.

Despite the fact that not too long ago the conversation devolved into some one sided tempest with you saying vulgar, stupid shit and me sending you back song lyrics that were cool to diffuse it.

In case you need to hear this… not everyone is frothing at the mouth, kid. Some of us evolve toward friendship and not 20 year old machismo.

I always suspected you were actually a narcissist, I just didn’t want it to be true.

You must have fucked up and got caught.

[dropsybaby]

In it

I’m in it tonight

Thick

So lost in my brokenness that I can’t remember what it was to be bright

It’s dark, and it’s been this way for a while

I never thought I’d let my head go under completely

I thought I’d learned to tread forever if I had to

But here I am

It’s not just that I’m getting older or that I’m missing my youth

It’s that I’m missing any sense of familiarity with the voice inside my mind

Missing that wild, irreverent, doggedness, too

The antidote I had endless supplies of against what others thought. Their venom.

The further in this mess, the more I am consumed by becoming

And here I am, more unbecoming

The broken that I thought I was for my whole life was soothing. This, I’m scared of.

[dropsybaby]

Greg

Had a dream about you again

Had a dream about you but thinking about Greg

Had a dream about you. Our boy is dead

What bullshit it’s been

Dreaming about you and thinking about our friend.

The old days are further away

The old days and those memories fade

The old days had no conviction to stay

What bullshit it’s been

The old days broke our hearts anyway.

#Spotify

[dropsybaby]

[dropsybaby]

Because you’re everywhere right now you’ll probably be here too, so I have to say this…

“The key to a good headshot is letting your personality shine through”.

But with finger guns tho? That’s the choice?

[dropsybaby]

Yeah. Yes.

Enough.

Driving off your lips and straight in

Walking on your whispers and into the ocean.

Our stereos.

Our eyelids.

Heavy and giving in to this.

Yeah. Yes.

The sounds that we fucked to, broke to.

Became under.

Came under.

We washed up against the moon and each other.

And drove

For a while

Until this

Yeah. Yes.

[dropsybaby]

I'm disappointed in you. You never lived up to my hopes. You aren't who I thought you'd be. You aren't kind, or self aware, or selfless. You are angry, and lost, and in one way or another, pathetic. You don't listen even when you feign interest. You don't care to learn about the root of deepset pain in others that makes them act the way they act. You don't come from a place of compassion and you're not a good friend. I can't talk to you to get things off my chest, but I'm not supposed to talk to anyone else either.

Worst of all, you are everyone I know.

There's nothing real left.

[dropsybaby]

Come back to me

Sycophant way

You desperate youth

You perverted, expressive, curious thing

Come hold my hand so we can be ever alone again

Artists at misery, deep whispers of the truth flickering in our eyes, murmuring forever as we consume the world. Knowing it more intensely than anyone else.

Knowing intentions. Knowing the cycle. Giving it space to revolve and do what it needs to do.

Oh, how fucking gorgeous heartbreak is.

Promise me

Promise me you'll be there still when the novacane wears off of us. With melancholy and minor chords tearing at the universe's walls, believing still in your darkness. Giving in to secrets. Not forgetting what you understand.

Promise me you'll be there, even when this body fails and the ashes blow away.

Look straight into my soul and tell me you'll slink through the atmosphere for always.

[dropsybaby]

Just like that, gone

Like a lover leaving with a last kiss goodbye

So sweet, then still sweet, then devoid

As if never

A last burst of vibrance and then cancer

Vantablack

[dropsybaby]

I don't know if we are friends

I don't know if we understand each other

I don't know if we'll be able to magically figure out how to be good to one another

Maybe we're just one of those things

I don't know if you like me, or adore me or are just used to having me around

I don't know if you find me irresistible or unapproachable

I don't know if you ever wonder about or wish for a life that I'm not in

I don't know if I'm too selfish

Or if you are

I don't know if I'm always generally disappointed

I don't know if you actually, even if just a little bit, think you're as big of a deal as you portray

If you do, I don't know how you could ever value me

I don't know if I'm compatible with people that don't exhibit a humble nature

I don't know if I'm always wrong and always the one fucking up

Maybe I really am

I don't know if I'm ever going to be able to be present enough to self-adjust my own moods

I don't know if this is life

I don't know if this is early work

I don't know if you'll be here

[dropsybaby]

I don't know why I feel emptied out by the news

Of you in the woods

You once took my head in your hands

Smashed it against a window with your skull

Scary since the day you were born

But I loved you intensely since 20 or 21

Hid you in my periphery for a good long run, through fleeting timelines and our non-commital, ephemeral hum. I didn't want you. You didn't want me. You found me. I found you.

This is what it feels like to lose music

Knowing I had your voice and guitar somewhere in the ether soothed me.

Despite how severely fucked up and violent you are.

Despite that the only time I ever feared for my life was in your hands.

Despite that you made me love you even when I didn't want to and then fucking disappeared.

I know how to pick em, I know. It's just not many people understand what it means to find the person they were designed to write songs with. When we sang together and you played, I believed in Om. It's the only way to say it. I don't even think you felt the same. But it was my closest fucking Nirvana. Or oopshoots, bubbleguts. Or whatever.

Tonight, I saw your picture. The ghost that took you over and my body was shaken to the core. I can't begin to explain why. We haven't spoken in years.

I frantically searched for your songs on YouTube and couldn't find anything worth a shit. Where the fuck is Candidate for Hope and why the fuck does it affect me so much that you don't even remember what hope is.

You called me magazine girl pretty. I gave you amelie. The doorway. The doorway. The doorway.

Something about this is fucking tragic. I do not want you to die.

Find me.

[dropsybaby]

You make me feel damaged

Like the shittiest box that's ever arrived on your doorstep in the mail.

With a shattered glass shadow box inside.

You make me feel like when you got me, you had to immediately start gluing me back together. Busted piece by busted piece.

Like you got damaged in the process yourself.

I don't function well like this. I don't.

I work best around those who at first sight, see my strengths and who champion them. That keeps me working hard to continue growing up. Not those who remind me constantly that I have some catching up to do.

Guess who knows that best.

[dropsybaby]

I've lost words. I've forgotten them.

They stopped working. But they used to be my weapon, so fuck it I'll revive them.

They got me here.

To being a boss.

To hypnotizing some.

To intimidating others.

Because they were my shield. My full. Body. Force. Field. My fuck-you-bro-ye-got-nothin'. I see your superiority, your well abused luck and I raise you an inconveniently bred street wit that'll drop you to your mother.fucking.knees.

Yeah, words.

They were the only thing separating my statistics from my abilities and credibility.

They were the only thing that couldn't be dismissed. Shit, you can't ignore a velvet toungue.

Words.

My ultimate catch.

A teenage mother, a short term addict. A wild, danger hungry, boy crazy, gem with an incourigable tendency for chaos and bad company. A left-to-the-wolves third child. A drop out. A diner waitress. A typical has-been, coulda-been, should-have-been, maddeningly misunderstood and fundamentally bucketed in the lost cause bin. I get it, I had an undetectable, confusing and frightening agenda, which I proudly revere as that time I resolutely followed my soul and spirit with steadfast conviction.

Still a teaspoon away from white trash... all except for that verbose saving grace.

You can't scrape the bottom of the barrel when you regularly dream in definitions. Histrionics, diminutive, esoterism, somnolent, derisive... pituitary. That shit keeps you levitating. Straight hover-boarding.

When you can explain the existential depth of the fibonacci sequence to a plain man.

You move minds with that kind of arsenal. You bend wills. You possess the blatant command to convince in an instant because people can't argue what's beyond their comprehension. No one wants to show their no comprende card.

Words are my own pure art. Letters in sequence like a straight up royal flush.

I could have lived in West Warwick with that shit trajectory but I fucking SPOKE my way out of that special ring of hell.

I wrote my whole way here, to legitimacy.

[dropsybaby]

There are reasons I know it's you.

Most of them get clouded from my vehement discomfort with vulnerability.

That you knew that without my voice telling you out loud is the biggest. That you protect me from my own rebellion against trust and peace is next.

You might be a super human. I might be too.

Together we make so many insane things materialize that we forget how much of a fucking miracle it is. Maybe we take for granted the strength of our team.

Nobody stands by you like I do and nobody stands by me like you... Always ready to take on any disaster I conjure up out of thin air. I am unabashedly proud of being your ride or die.

It's my badge. Honoring you is my purpose.

I guess lately it's started to sink in that you signed up for this because you fucking wanted to and because I'm resolute in who I am and I'm gold.

I really am.

And damn.

We have what everyone wants.

[dropsybaby]

Maybe I can slowly break your heart

Or reject you to pieces

Maybe you'll realize that you're not a god

And that your stupid fucking ego is not what gets you a life of partnership

This was actually about you.

[dropsybaby]

12 and 31

Whenever I see a shoe on the side of the highway, I wonder if he or she who belongs to it, is dead.

I think… that person is in the median or there is definitely a human in a potato sack in those woods.

Then usually I’ll get way too involved in how a person could get murdered.

How does that ever actually happen.

Then I’ll think about my own instincts, my mortality and if anyone in my life could ever be so disgusted with me that they’d take my number.

But inevitably in this cyclone, I always realize that I’ve been this nervous about every bad scenario for as long as I can remember. I’ve been unequivocally sad and untrusting of decency since I hit 12. I just don’t believe in singularity. To me, if something is gorgeous, it is also not. I cannot acknowledge a magical sunrise without instantly remembering that it will disappear.

Sure, my grandfather commited suicide that year, but I hardly knew him. Then my cousin. Hardly knew her too… but I knew my Mom and she was fucking sad and I felt it in my skin. I remember feeling like I couldn’t care that much because the familiarity wasn’t there, and then I remember feeling - at 12 - like a giant fucking failure. I didn’t empathize as much as a daughter should.

And I have always been this selfish.

Right now I could use somebody who uniquely knows. Someone that could just let me be fucking dark and deep and scared. A person who could co-sign my bullshit and make me feel like it’s fucking normal for a second.

I need to connect at the molecular level and I need the space to be lost.

But.

I also wish I was born without a scale in my hands because I don’t want to weigh this shit anymore.

And I definitely don’t want to believe that a shoe belongs to a dead person.

Because then this happens.

[dropsybaby]

It just laid out in front of me like a beam of truth. I'd far rather lose someone to something I can't control than to that which I can. Anytime circumstance stepped in, I've walked away and didn't feel loss. It's good to finally make sense of my bullshit. Now I can clean up.