beside myself

by mary is

supported by
Tom Herdman
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darealhighmay
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kellysue64
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1.
winter storms 02:47
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winter storms are nothing to cry about, baby this season is only for practice maybe all of this, is just an exercise in patience maybe we're all still learning how to love we can hibernate like bears if you want to, put this off til february or march. we could just fall asleep on the couch, close our eyes and dreaming of flying south with the birds. if that's what you want then it is what i want
2.
rainy days 02:59
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i want more than rain thunderstorms falling from the faucets and spinning down the drain i want more than pain the spider bite i carry in my locket, with my pocket change give me more “the same” try to move it, try to lose it, just confuse it, and it all remains i just run in place always tired, uninspired, not expired but it’s lost it’s taste i know you want to leave this place it’s getting so hard playing waiting games tracing your palms with figure eights i know you want to leave this place i know you want to leave this place your eyelids look like outer space i tell you i love you, just in case
3.
endless nights 03:02
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sirens sound like crying from a distance death looks like nothing up close the phone starts to ring in the kitchen a lump starts to form in your throat The snow fell to bury the sidewalk, for a moment the world died with you in the stillness of streets that stay quiet your breath is the one thing that moves you close your eyes, it’s starts to sleet and breath’s a knife, it’s cutting deep you dream a gift you cannot keep where lions cradle sheep, where lions cradle sheep should you stand up and say that you’re sorry should you sit down and play solitaire parking lots aren’t supposed to bring mourning, with the street lamps all bowed in prayer if eyes are made only for weeping, then arms are made only to hold there’s plenty of hands to grab in the fair weather, but who are you with when it’s cold we close our eyes and wait for sleep and breath’s a knife, it’s cutting deep we dream a gift we cannot keep where lions cradle sheep, where lions cradle sheep and the worldwide commute is a funeral procession all the cars drive along in a miserable succession to their neighborhoods, yards and their bedside depression, whispering good nights and reciting last confessions i close my eyes, i am asleep my breath is slow, i start to dream of images i cannot keep fields of light and feeling’s deep, of lion and of sheep of lion and of sheep
4.
mother 04:09
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my mother and i share the same bones our tendencies careful our tendons all sewn bless the seamstress that stitched us, eyes heavy and lips closed winter falls quickly on my mother and i and we brace for the cold with the warmth in our eyes we hold close to the sun when we can’t see the sky my mother and i bear the same marks whether bruises on bodies or the stains on our hearts we pull at the wishbone the year breaks apart nothing could ever prepare for the plight being held by my mother in the harsh, morning light our tears fell, united, in the name of our rights but we’re always rebuilding, my mother and i the sickness can’t know you, try though it might to see you in x-rays and hospital light, it can’t see the soft, swinging fight in your eyes i see you always, sweet mother of mine my mother and i share the same nose, bitten off by a black bird while we washed summer clothes oh, sugar cookies and pockets of rye words that she’d sing at the start of the night
5.
rest stop 03:23
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it's always raining when i least expect it your cheeks, they never really seemed to wetten when you'd cry. i'm always writing twists within my story i am petrified of being boring i don't know why i cower underneath the darkest storm cloud the thunder rumbles in my voice, we yell out, "seek shelter here" i am never ready for the pain but what the hell does ready even mean i disappear wake up i'm begging you, i'm begging you to wait up i'm falling through, i'm falling through i'm wrapped up, a kind coffin, a harsh cocoon, my sheets and my blankets my bedroom, my clenched fists i'm sleeping in the wrong place i'll alter my headspace my closed eyes, this dark room it's not safe, it's not safe, it's not safe i think i'm changing soon i'll alter my headspace become a great big pile of goo it feels a lot like death to charge into the new. it's always raining when i least expect it i'm standing underneath the darkest storm cloud i yell out, i disappear
6.
let me 02:52
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let me love but not too loud now i don’t want the lungs to give out give me warmth but not too close now i don’t want the house to burn down hold me close but let me go i don’t think you want to know draw me in and breathe me out slow open up the dirty window it’s hard to see and hard to feel me come inside so you can leave me and shut the door behind you and then would you remind me to check the locks before i sleep, to wash the glass between each drink hold me close but let me go i don’t think you you want to know that you could love me but i’d never know i try to love me but it never shows hold me close don’t let me go i want to know you make me want to know
7.
nightlight 02:15
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sharing secrets in the dark with yourself, just to hear the words out loud and you’ll never tell a single soul because you know the way it sounds when you’re laying on the floor with the headlights through the window you hide behind the door and you cry into the pillow and how can these four walls house so much dread and so much comfort and right outside the hall, the past is knocking, i’m outnumbered sharing secrets in the dark in this room and i’m afraid it’s kept them all covered in paint, it stays the same, i’m still insane to think i’m anything but small when the walls are closing in, is it a cradle or a casket it’s a very simple question but you’re too afraid to ask it the lightning in your head, and the thunder in your mouth, it pushes on your teeth but you cannot let it out sharing secrets in the dark with yourself just to hear the words out loud and when you speak into an empty room do you still make a sound
8.
low battery 04:36
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i read my palms i count the stars all in my head i start the car still in my bed i feel the seams red, yellow, green, glows from your screen outside the house it’s still and yet green, yellow, red burns in my head the lights are out and you are too the view is blue in my room i’m waking up from my sleep it’s 1am, i cant keep my head above water or the sheets i’m waking up just to see i’ve got a low battery 20% on my screen i’ve got a low battery 20% remaining now it remains inside my head and i will drain until i’m dead still on my side i start to crawl and from your life i start to fall i feel a buzz inside my brain but it’s just a text and i’m insane outside your house it’s dark and yet the moon lights up the staircase and every bad thought in my head
9.
camera obscura 03:01
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walking princes street looking at my feet losing feeling in my toes and in the room of lights 3 or 4 flights high i close my eyes, the whole room glows sitting in cafes we both get milkshakes and i think of how much it will hurt to go christmas markets, stay with me when life gets hard, visit my dreams the entire week i felt i was asleep at brand new heights, i count the clouds like sheep airport terminal, departure screens, a bedtime story to tuck me into sleep the phantom passport in my hand and we’re shaking on the ferris wheel the wind deceiving, and the night sincere, how brave it was for you to stand in the morning, when the world was bright, i opened up my eyes a million times and saw the day stretched out unplanned christmas markets, stay with me when life gets hard, visit my dreams the entire week i felt i was asleep at brand new heights, i count the clouds like sheep
10.
artless poet 03:57
lyrics
100 poems they’re bad, but i wrote them is it sad where you’re going? i guess there’s one way of knowing 100 poems i’m glad that i wrote them but i laugh when they’re spoken what a funny thing to feel emotion i don’t know how to feel that now i’m in my head and out of focus i don’t know why it’s hard to cry i guess my tears are trapped in harsher moments i don’t know when i left my twin size bed or when i lost the artless poet 100 poems they’re sad but i know them the sky’s a dark shade of golden i close my eyes, the light is stolen 100 poems i’m on my back in the ocean and if i sink, the waves have spoken there’s no more shore when my eyes reopen i don’t know how to wake up now i’ve 3 missed calls and i don’t notice i don’t know why i hate the word goodbye it always sounds like a bad omen i don’t know when i’ll get out of bed i want to be the artless poet credits

about

winter storms and laptop screens.
separation and longing.
the cold will melt away, and we'll grow close again.

credits

released October 30, 2020

Mastering on tracks 3 & 4 - Chase Hampton

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mary is image

mary is Oklahoma City, Oklahoma

songs made in my bedroom. my dog helps sometimes

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