benjamin bock - a collage lyrics
[raymond’s poem]
i placed a cedar candle near the dirty dishes
and washed the laundry with shampoo
cracked my hands on the sponge
as i furiously wiped away the paint on the window sill
and then i told myself i’d done a great job
and sat down to have a beer
[andrew’s poem]
when i say “i’m sorry”
it’s not just a way to change the topic from my wrongdoings
when i say “i’m sorry” it’s because i am
the guilt inside me is a h++rder’s house
stuffed to the roof with remorse & things i should’ve done or shouldn’t have done
when you enter a h++rder’s housе the first thing you notice is the smеll
when i enter my conscience the first thing i notice is all the apologies
stacked up like letters in envelopes i meant to send out but never did
if there is ever a day where i stand face to face with you again
i’ll tell you how much the word “sorry” doesn’t even begin to describe my remorse
[finneas’ poem]
you should’ve believed me the night i pointed to my chest and said
“everything dies here”
it all perishes because every home i’ve ever lived in contained a broken family
and it was them who built my chest
but, being broken themselves, they crafted one that was too tight
and crushes anyone who finds their way inside
one so hungry, so love+starved
it smothers it’s guests and threatens to eat them whole
it didn’t want to lose it’s grip on you
but there was a better part of me that wanted you to make it out alive
see, i wanted you to be my home
i mean, i wanted to live inside your chest
it seemed so much roomier than my own
i mean, i know i ask too much+ i know that i’m too much
i mean, i didn’t want to hurt you+ i didn’t want to leave
i mean, i’m too much like the families that built me
it’s because of this that i don’t deserve your love
i mean, i’m broken, you know
i’m broken
[roman’s poem]
the sound of rushing blood in my ears distracts from panicked breathing
but doesn’t drown the pounding under my skull as i stare into the mirror
i offer apologies to you and myself
i hate who blankly gazes back at me in it’s reflection
my mind knows the silver plate will not lie
so i find myself wishing for a distortion
to control the shame for who i see in this glass
a refrain of i’m sorry runs through my veins and i feel the grip tightening
through my stiffening fingers and shaking forearms
ashamed of what i’ve done, the tears drip down my face
as i look into my own eyes and i see so much i cannot ever fix
although i have applied band+aids and patches to my casualties
no amount of change will serve as enough
to rewrite my sins or undo the history i’ve sealed into place
with poison in my t++th
[raymond’s poem repeated]
(i placed a cedar candle near the dirty dishes
and washed the laundry with shampoo
cracked my hands on the sponge
as i furiously wiped away the paint on the window sill
and then i told myself i’d done a great job
and sat down to have a beer)
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