lirik lagu great imitation - until the skin
it breaks, it breaks and tears away…
i’ve asked her 1, 000 times if she’s alright and i’m less and less convinced by her each reply of ‘i’m fine’.
swathed in pale bedside lamp light, she’s never looked more beautiful or refined
i’m rolling over back on my back staring at the biege wall we painted once when things were different
she’s turning her back to me and murmurs her ‘goodnights’ to me lackl-sterly
clicks off the lamplight that ushers in swathed and depths of velveteen evening this night
i put my thin and withered arm and wrist over her deep and rhythmically breathing chest
i’m rolling over behind her, trying and wishing and hoping to be noticed, but she doesn’t notice
she’s stiff and resistant to my touch at which her skin withers and creeps and i retract my arm
and my heavy and laden eyelids drift shut and as they do i see me, not through my own eyes
in a 3rd person perspective, creeping into the kitchen and grabbing the breadknife tight in my right hand
padding my way back up the stairs to where she’s sleeping and momentarily kneeling beside her prostrate frame
feeling nothing but the warm handle in my sweat slicked palm
all of a sudden i find that i’m driving the blade with an awful force fully into her forehead, where a sickening vermillion grin spreads
where she used to frown in incomprehension at me
begins spewing disgusting, ugly crimson upon the crisp white sheets she cleaned recently
she doesn’t move a muscle becomes vague and fades away
and i’m left with the nothingness that usuall resides behind my eyelids as i drift off into unconsioucsness
since you started to tear us apart
i can only hope my fingernails leave sore and bleeding scratch marks
jesus, how can he be so needy, i can see that he needs me but just recently he’s quite simply been the last thing that i need
why couldn’t he just let me be and be quiet while we watch some mindless tv?
grabbing at my hands and shoulders, f-cking utterly suffocating me.
i don’t mean to be mean so i don’t say anything then he sits staring forlornly direction
asking if i’m alright to which i reply i’m fine, which isn’t enough of a response apparently
then he asks me again and again and i’m doing my best not to lose my temper.
said that i was going to bed just after 10 to get some small sp-ce and put things into perspective
try to figure out if this slump we’re in is permanent and when the rot first set in was when we should have left it.
but i love him deep down, there’s once a time when i couldn’t picture my life without him in it
but in these recent weeks it’s seemed to me that those crazy, hazy days are over and finally finished.
can’t hide my irritation when he says he’s coming to bed and i’m disgusted and surprised by the disgust
i feel by his pathetic expression of being wounded on his face and in his eyes.
now i’m heavily breathing, pretending to be sleeping, he lols his f-cking arm across me wihtout any consideration for the fact that i’m finally resting.
and i feel like i’m having to bite my tongue bl–dy to not wheels around and scream, ‘get the f-ck off me’
i can’t believe that i’ve let myself spend so many nights rigid in misery because i feel chained, restrained, pained by guilt and history
and it sickens me that he’d rather be a part of this horrific heart ache than risk being on his own and lonely.
nothing makes sense, except one thing and of that i’m sure
i don’t want him to love me any more…
and i’ll be holding on until the skin breaks
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