Unfinished

I know you'd rather have me be vulnerable
I know that'd make you feel better
I know it's rougher when I'm mean
When I'm cruel, when I'm saying nasty things
When I'm showing how destructive I can be
Because it makes me feel strong
So instead you want me to say I'm wrong
And leave my arms open
To show you I'm hurt
To show you I'm vulnerable

I know you'd rather I'm not throw the plates
And splatter paint on the walls
I know you'd rather I be the kind of artist
Who can leave their art in their heads
Or on the canvas
Or in one of the ten thousand notebooks
I've got spread around the house
I know you think I'm a cliche
When I have to shoot passion in my veins
Just to get a decent piece of work done

Don't you think I wish I could communicate to you
All the ways in which I'm dying here?

All the reasons I don't think I'm seeing thirty
Because I'm going to run out before then
Because I'm going to leave so much undone
Because I'm a fucking failure dressed up in other people's success
Drowning in the fucking punch bowl
At a party thrown for someone else

And you want me to talk about it
But contain it
Condition it
So it doesn't hurt you
Or me
So it's pretty pain

That's what you want, isn't it?
Pretty pain
Pain you can put on an album cover
Or in a book of poems

It was the pain you were attracted to
And now you want it to go away

Do you realize that there are nights
Where the pain comforts me
More than you do
Because the pain reminds me
That I'm still alive

Telling you how I really feel
Speaking my truth to you
Feels like vomiting up my guts
For hours on end

It's easier to give you pretty pain
That you call lies
And call it a fucking night

It's easier to do anything
Than be what you want me to be

I'd rather be dead
Than be vulnerable

I'd rather be long gone
Six feet down
With a rope around my neck
And a bullet in my brain
And have them say--

'He had guts'

Instead of--What a chump

Instead of letting them think
That I died down in a corner
With my chin to my chest

I'd rather they think I went out fighting

Let 'em think I was a fighter

I'd rather leave them with that
That whatever's left over in my head

Let them think there was more in there
That I chose not to think

Let them think I wasn't finished
And they won't be wrong

If there's one thing I keep feeling
The one thing I know I'll keep feeling
Until there's nothing left to feel

It's unfinished