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lyrics

I hate to say it but I’m back on my old shit,
Curled up, drinking wine in my basement.
Hiding out, buried in stress,
And avoiding everybody that I’ve ever met.
And that means you too.
There’s no exception when I’m in this mood.
I only build to blow it up.
Now watch me self destruct.

I found a dark hole, gotta climb out,
Find a foot hold and some steady ground.
See your silhouette through the kitchen clouds,
In the back beat when you’re not around.
I heard it all crawling through the grape vine.
You’re happy with yours.
I’m happy with mine.
I’m not mad this ended.
I’m just sad.
I think I lost my best friend.

And I’ll admit that I miss my old demons.
Crying on the floor, six drinks in,
Avoiding hope in the exorcism.
I’m more productive when I give in.
They won’t admit to the paradigm,
Or how they love it when cry.
Low key encouraging the end times.
Why?
We love an artist that wants to die.

(Oh my God, did she say that?)
(That’s like, so fucking cringe.)
(Oh my God, I think she did. Is she okay?)

It’s still a dark hole, and I need out.
No sunlight, just the darkest clouds.
So strong that my head feels heavy now.
Always waiting.
Always weighing down.
I’m playing back memories in real time.
It doesn’t look like me, or my life.
Have you ever felt all the good shift,
And realized you ruined it?

You ruined it.
You ruined, cause you ruin.

So here’s a shout out to everyone that lived through 2020,
When half our friends? They didn’t make it.
Hope was smaller than the body count-
ing down the days ’til we could be in the same place,
Yet when that moment came I only hid myself further away.
But fuck you to the people who said that I “missed my moment”.
In 2021 I took my story back and someone stole it.
I’d rather be a self proclaimed suicide queen than
A victim who’s stuck in between again.
On a platform, only trying to get better.
When they called me a “survivor” I never felt like surviving.
And it always felt fraudulent .
And it always felt confusing.
My favorite part of the plan has always been the end.
My favorite of the plan is ruining it.
My favorite part of the plan is ruined.

credits

from Songs I Wrote Instead of Killing Myself, released March 3, 2023

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What did you do when there was nothing left?

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