© 2020 by LAURA TUTHALL. All rights reserved.

I Am an Illness (2013)

 

bring me back a piece of

papier-mâché filling

I don’t wanna be the first mistake in the wall

gotta glue my hollowness to

your heart before hell’s

unveiled in the void

and purgatory sends you

driving down the highway

down into the dungeon

sounding out the velvet sky

bring me back a piece of

bring me back a piece of

bring me back some medicine now

 

not only are you ill

but you are the illness

I can’t sleep with my brain dripping doubt

try to refrain from rational responses

‘cause somewhere over this

black and white rainbow

somewhere over the sepia clouds

there is a reason

raw with indecision

hollow in the center

decadent in downfall

drag me deep into delusion

dull me with some medicine now

 

there used to be a door here

leading to a plethora of gears

lost in the lore

maybe tossed in the trash bin

ever since then

evolution’s retracted

bring me back a piece of

papier-mâché filling

I don’t wanna be

the worst mistake of them all

 

not only are you ill

but you are the illnees

soaking sin into sinews

of stronger stranger arms

‘cause no one really knows your eyes

the minute mayhem

takes the place of martyr

once your shy autumn skin starts to bleed

it sends ‘em running

scalded by seclusion

rinsing off your ruin

with sweeter, simpler things

you are a storm

allergic to its lightning

knotted to a nebulous sea

 

there used to be thunder here

there used to be doors and gears

 

I am an illness that breeds

corrupting open brainfiles as we speak

weaker than willow reeds

porous and pedigreed

knock on my knees

watch me plead for deletion

 

bring me back a piece of

papier-mâché filling

I don’t wanna be

the worst mistake of them all

gotta glue my hollowness to you

 

bring me back a piece of

papier-mâché filling

I don’t wanna be

the worst mistake of them all

gotta glue my hollowness to you

 

bring me back a piece of

papier-mâché filling

I don’t wanna be the first mistake in the wall

gotta glue my hollowness to

your heart before hell’s

unveiled in the void

and purgatory sends you

driving down the highway

down into the dungeon

sounding out the velvet sky

clean me with confusion

stuff me with illusion

patch me with

a papier-mâché soul