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about
A letter written while in therapy to myself in winter 2015. It expresses the fact that I really am/was trying to get better and as far as I have come I am still not 100% cured. The differences, however, are very black and white from now and then. This letter is still relevant as I am still overcoming myself and that in itself is an achievement.
lyrics
December 27th, 2015
Sitting on the right side of the last bus seat home and the window has never seemed clearer
You see I have made progress
My hands no longer clatter when you ask whats the matter
And the ground does not shake when my heart deflates
When the windows of the car are laced in ice i do not shiver.
When the tea kettle screams, it does not sound abrupt.
My knees do not buckle and my elbows are no longer a malleable substance
You see Ive been making progress
When you walk into a room it no longer smells like the ocean
When the waves crash ashore they freeze at the touch
I am in control of surging emotion
Not all of the time.
Sometimes i read in between the lines of my veins and still find your name smudged in ink
I have days when i wake up to your eyes still burned into the back of my skull
Like a haunting from a ghost too far away for me to see
But ive been making progress, ive been making progress
You see when it snows i no longer walk in endless circles
My self hatred has been reduced to a size small enough to carry in my pocket
Hating yourself is always one step forward and two steps back
its a broken tree branch scraping your window at night
Like a child discovering the moon is not a cresent, i realized i could see parts of me no one else could
I could see the dark side everyone fails to understand until 6th grade science
So like everyone around me i will grow up only to notice the bright side of the moon
And understand the even the dark side will reflect an admirable light
My eyes are dark raven silk floating a cameo through the night
My Wool sweater woven body is a place to call home
And i am beautiful
Damnit i am beautiful
I have made progress
The mirror no longer feels like a mock painting
The scale is no longer a number too big for my hands to hold
I dont need your approval or your pleasant afterthought to know who i am
I am still waters that run deep
The ice skidding the top is a shell i yave broken through
I saw the trees with cotton afloat and snowflakes tumbling onto my eyelashes and i began to forgive myself into lungs easier to breathe with
I have made progress.
I am by all means not cured.
credits
released January 10, 2017
Myself, Garageband, and my handy Zoom H6 field recorder.
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