emotional masochist

Peaches in the produce section I left my heart at the grocery store For someone to pick it up and squish it in their fist And somehow still want more For the days will illness feels invincible And art seems predictable I cry in my car to The Only Living Boy in New York Call it masochistic It's all the same to me Whether i'm sobbing on the corner Or my head's out the sunroof ass is off the seat Running myself ragged Like the hem on my BDG jeans Or pushing at purple bruises On my stupid knobbly knees Wisdom teeth out on monday By thursday at open mic to sing If you didn't see the swelling You wouldn't know a thing Call it masochistic Because you think it has a ring I hate how that word rolls off everyone's tongue So easily when it comes to me When the sinkhole gotten deeper I won't grab the rope you throw to retrieve me I'll swim way down to the bottom of the ocean of my grief Therapy leaves me uneasy And my arthritic bones tend to creak When I skip school to listen to music And sit on the swings Call it masochistic Everytime a tear rolls down my cheek Why would I try to make it stop When the deep aching pain makes me feel so free? So free? La la la la la la la La la la la la la la la la La la la la la la la la La la la la la la la Da de da de da da da de da da de da da da La la la la la la la la la la la la la