Emotional Masochist

Peaches in the produce section
I left my heart at the grocery store
For someone to pick it up and squish it in their fist
And somehow still want more

For the days will illness feels invincible
And art seems predictable
I cry in my car to The Only Living Boy in New York

Call it masochistic
It's all the same to me
Whether i'm sobbing on the corner
Or my head's out the sunroof ass is off the seat

Running myself ragged
Like the hem on my BDG jeans
Or pushing at purple bruises
On my stupid knobbly knees

Wisdom teeth out on monday
By thursday at open mic to sing
If you didn't see the swelling
You wouldn't know a thing

Call it masochistic
Because you think it has a ring
I hate how that word rolls off everyone's tongue
So easily when it comes to me

When the sinkhole gotten deeper
I won't grab the rope you throw to retrieve me
I'll swim way down to the bottom of the ocean of my grief

Therapy leaves me uneasy
And my arthritic bones tend to creak
When I skip school to listen to music
And sit on the swings

Call it masochistic
Everytime a tear rolls down my cheek
Why would I try to make it stop
When the deep aching pain makes me feel so free?
So free?

La la la la la la la
La la la la la la la la la
La la la la la la la la
La la la la la la la

Da de da de da da da de da da de da da da
La la la la la la la la la la la la la



Credits
Writer(s): Eleanor Osterloh
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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