I keep telling you "I love you"
and it comes out as an apology.
I’m sorry. You want it to be bolder, bigger, less pathetic.
"Love" has become a fighting word for us.
You argue that you love me more. I don’t object.
I turn over in bed, sob into the pillow, pity myself.
I mumble it back to you because you
like the way it sounds coming out of my mouth.
We’ve turned caring for each other into a duty dance
that’s cheapened "love."
It has become another way of apologizing
as you roll your eyes and say, "Sorry, I forgot to buy milk",
a habit with every evening’s, "Night, love you too",
a promise we keep breaking:
"Of course I won’t, I love you",
It hits me that we no longer know what it means
when you slap me across the face and instantly,
I tell you I love you. I can’t help it.
I have spent months associating it with this much pain.
My insides are bullet-holed basins where the past goes to die.
I feel death when you stand close.
Stay away from me.
I love you.
Ke$ha’s real voice
Living proof that Hollywood kills talent.
I feel like I should reblog this after listening to it, oh, seven or eight times.
i will always reblog this.
when people bitch about ke$ha i’m like, go listen to her folk stuff.
when she turned in her demo to the recording studio, it was mostly stuff like this. then she recorded a jokey rap song just because she has a sense of humor.
aaaaand now all of her songs are jokes. literally, a lot of it is her making fun of herself and pop music. people don’t always gets that.
it’s very sad.