Marceline, 1997

is it just you and me in the wreckage of the world

I was young and devoted to my hunger

in the afternoons of adolescence I disappeared into

the other side of my reflection

wide-eyed girl, peroxide blonde, too sad to understand anything

the truth is I never got it right /

you think that you leave just because you can

but that is never the case

you think that you leave just because your life is stagnant

and you create an award-winning performance over the course

of six years and hope everyone around you believes you when you say

that you left because you wanted to start over

but you were hoping to become someone new

and you put yourself through fire just to be someone new

you think that you leave just because there’s more out there for you

in fact you think that you leave because you want the world

the truth is /// there’s no truth – you leave and things fall apart

you put together the pieces in a completely different way

and sometimes you find yourself smiling for no reason

who’s going to tell my mother that I am never coming back

I can feel myself drifting

and who’s going to tell her I was a little girl looking out the window

thinking I don’t belong here I belong to the currents and the

ominichords in the distance

I’ve been standing in front of Ophelia for about an hour

she will drown in the river and I will drown in the train tracks /

I’ve been gone too long now and I’m never turning

myself inside out again

for people who don’t care

people who don’t care

I see her at the bus stop on the way home

I see her at 2am when I’m walking back from Liverpool Street

and I see her in the taxi after drinking with friends

the bed swallows me whole

I can’t help but try to hold on

to anything that resembles tenderness

I can’t help but go on and on because I can never forget about her

staying up until the morning, wishing something would kill her

in the hospital chair, watching the hours disappear like dandelions in the wind

I was young and devoted to everything out of my reach

the rooftops and the gardens and the cups of coffee in the morning

You think that you leave because you’re happy on your own

and you become a silent shipwreck whilst eating cereal in your bed

You think you will forget how much you hated everything

when you were younger

you think you will find forgiveness for how much you hated yourself

when you were younger

you think you can be a stranger

you think you can make a home

in fact you make a home

and swear against all the things that hurt you

because your heart has been on fire and your brain has been on fire

for years on end

So you leave

and you remember her sometimes and realise it wasn’t really her fault

and you keep her inside you for a little longer

so she can sleep

I was young and devoted to my hunger

so I put it all in boxes

and kept my burning memories to myself

Maybe I have become someone new

or maybe I’ve just learned

how to hide better

still young

still devoted

still

this hunger