I used to cry tears that could drown a bathtub
I wore makeup, watched it run long distance
I did reserve my third eye for tears of joy
and I still do
but my pain is not poetic anymore
I used to hold my clit as tight as a vise
not once did I joyously writhe
life was demeaning sex in retrospect
they used me like a napkin
floating above my body
and boy did I let it happen
and boy do I drink black coffee
and I'm still the same but now my pain just ain't poetic as it were
woah woah
my pain is not poetic anymore
Modular synths sparkle amidst piano, vibes, and other organic instruments stringing together constellations of sound. Bandcamp New & Notable Sep 22, 2023