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HYSTERICS

by Elizabeth Carol K

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1.
I shook hands with my trouble when I was young, don't blame my mom and dad it wasn't their fault. Born a little headstrong I decided to meet my angels at the start, down half a flight of stairs and off the tail end of a truck. // But the iron in my back draws me back to the railroad tracks. I'll head for the train yards, you'll make for the bars. And I've been wearing out my welcome mat, I know I’m wearing out the door. Pacing up and down the hall, I know I’ve hollowed out the floor. I'll spend my life breaking habits that aren't worth the keep. And movement's all I've got to keep these bones from getting weak. Take a breath settle down your shipwrecks and sworn regrets while I learn to have patience with my past. I'm still recovering from my fist fights with the devil, still sleep with my light on to keep them from waiting in the corner. // And with pistons in my eyes and a ramrod for a spine you can't convince me that I'm easy to love. ‘cause I’ve been wearing out my welcome mat, I know I'm wearing out the door. I'm pacing up and down the hall, I know I've hollowed out the floor. I'll spend my life breaking habits that aren't worth the keep. And movement's all I've got to keep these bones from getting weak. I can't let it be the death of me. And I still see ghosts around these parts, I see them walking with the road. I don't mind the company, it doesn't scare me like it once did years ago. To each his own memories to rummage through tonight, to each his own demons to please. To each his own miles to cover before we get our sleep. Movement’s all I've got to keep these bones, movement's all I've got to keep this will from getting weak.
2.
Ramblin' 02:49
We walked until the moon set, talked straight through the dawn. Sung out our old and haunted spirituals to an empty and dark downtown. Tried our hand at reason, placed it up in front of our doubts. You’re the one taught me how to wander, from you I caught the spell. And I've become a bit of a ramblin’ woman cause you're the best renegade I know. And if I were a gamblin’ woman I'd bet my bones you'd never settle down. Before you put your travelin’ shoes back on, there's something I still have left to say. But if you’re already gone when I turn back around, already on your way - I'll yell across the lawn to you what I pray to God you remember: “Sure ‘they're a rotten crowd’ but ‘You're worth the whole damn bunch put together’” And I've become a bit of a ramblin’ woman, thanks to the best renegade I know. And if I were a gamblin’ woman I'd bet my bones you'd never settle down. I've become a bit of a ramblin’ woman cause you're the best renegade I know. And if I were a gamblin’ woman I'd bet my bones I'll see you on the road.
3.
Missing You 04:03
I'm missing my old life, we looked so happy in the photographs. Why couldn't we see it then? We had a good life. It was better than now. It was better than now. But I've got food and a bed, I guess I can't complain much. I shouldn't complain. But I've been missing you like crazy, it's a shame I'll never say it right out or face to face. But I've been missing you like crazy, it's a shame I'll never say it and you’ll never take me seriously. But I go to bed hungry most nights even though I've got food in the fridge. And I don't get much sleep even though I've got a bed. Out searching to find myself in all the people that I meet. But I've been missing you like crazy, it's a shame I'll never say it right out or face to face. But I've been missing you like crazy, it's a shame I'll never say it and you’ll never take me seriously. And I don't get much sleep even though I've got a bed. And even though I've got food I go hungry most nights. My back is all honey, I've been counting down the vertebrae, running out of reasons why I should keep my backbone straight. But I've been missing you like crazy, it's a shame I'll never say it right out or face to face. And I want to take my cowardness, throw it all away, but something always seems to stand in my way. I've been missing you, I've been missing you, I've been missing you like crazy. I've been missing you, I've been missing you, I've been missing you like crazy.
4.
I hope even though I know you're lonesome tonight you don't drink yourself under the table. I hope even though I can't help you win the fight you find some sort of hope to live for. And if your steps would take you where you've always wanted to go, would you be further from me? would you be closer to home? But I know you were out walking the night, did you make it home alright? I know my lines are just broken words and are nothing more than damaged goods. But maybe, maybe, maybe someday soon they'll finally do right by you. Sing to me over my shoulder, speak in riddles, "here look at the Stars." But in the downtime I'll fight you for empathy until my hands are raw. I should’ve stood there, soaked it in, worn your eyes just like a second skin. With letters, Handwritten, and a song in the car. So I heard you were out walking the night, did you make it home alright? I know my lines are just broken words and are nothing more than damaged goods. But maybe, maybe, but maybe someday soon they'll finally do right by you, they'll finally do right by you, they'll finally do right by you. and how did you not come to see the goddamn worst in me after knowing some secrets I keep? I think maybe you saw it, I think maybe you did, but in true heroic fashion you didn't give a shit (thanks for that) So they tell me you're out walking the night, let me know when you make it home alright. I know my lines are just broken words and are nothing more than damaged goods. But maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe, but maybe someday soon they'll finally do right by you.
5.
42 04:45
With the skeleton of a city riding on my back I dare not compare myself to you right now. And the vultures of my memory have already been, they’ve had their fair shake at it. So it’s your turn now, take your hit, take what you want, what’s left you can have. And I can't say just what my future holds but right now I know what it doesn’t are dreams of American suburbia. So I’ve been staring down these side streets, to the end as far as I can see, wondering which way I have to go to leave. // But you well know just as well I do that all our actions are just reactions to counter the side effects of the future. And you well know just as well I do that all things can always change. And this weekend and I’m back in town, 500 hundred yards from you, sleeping in an empty house. I didn’t tell you, I didn’t let you know, cause you’ve been close to impossible but I don’t really blame you, no. But you’ve been close to impossible so I didn’t tell you, I didn’t let you know, that I’ve been ghosting around right under your nose. And I’ve spent all my time at 42 catching up and doing work, hoping to run into you. I’ve spent all my time at 42 catching up and doing work, hoping to run into you. I’ve spent all my time at 42 getting nothing done, hoping to run into you. I’ve spent all my time at 42 getting nothing done, hoping to run into you. But you have to know there was a time you were the only reason that I ever came home. But at 9 o’clock they’re closing up and I’ve stopped waiting for you to walk through the door. I’ve stopped waiting for you to walk through the door. I’ve stopped waiting for you to walk past the door. And Orion’s Belt’s replaced by streetlights, green three straight ahead of me. And I’m hitting speeds just to tempt the fates and the police. But I slow at every headlight searching for your car. I never realized how many people drive fucking Camrys in this town.
6.
Symptoms 04:29
We didn’t see the numbers drop at first, a linear decline. Just chalked the changing symptoms up to full moons and rising tides. I’ll remember this winter as the one my shoulder blades ground to powder on the floor, The one I spent alone waist deep in midnight walks and coffee shops with fractured teeth. A monster with a hammer in my hand, nail marks, eyes opened up so wide. Shaky fists and empty thoughts, covers up to drown florescent lights. The inhaled moments I held close, grew cold and I gave in, let them go. I burned them for heat. Sitting on the gutter’s step, ash and embers, watching smolder what I can’t replace. So we sat in your room, my face was covered up. That same picture 200 round-trip miles away, at my desk is still up. No, that doesn’t make me better babe, just more afraid of change and less willing to accept all the damage that I did. And I could blame my loss of sanity, claim it was medically induced and even though that’s true, I’ll pay, I’ve broken this - excuses are no use. ‘Cause I didn’t catch the pieces shatter, too far, a state away. Right now we hardly talk, there’s not much I dare to say. Except these Midwest winters are still so goddamn long and full of decay. And wanting your acceptance is a terrible habit, it makes me feel reckless and frankly too much like a whore. I’ve been throwing so much of my life in your mailbox and at your front door. So I tuck my shirt into my jeans, baptize myself with vinegar and bleach. Cynical and circular, I’ve starting counting my steps again. And flashbacks scratched me raw until I bled. Do you care? Do you dare? Can I ask to talk this out?
7.
Dylan let’s call our therapists, we both know it’s been months, coffee and journals don’t solve everything. You fall into melancholy and I fall prey to indecision. Sometimes I just need someone to listen and sitting with you might just be enough. Charlie left our town behind, headed straight into the city, I’d watched him grow for years. Tattooed his tattered sleeve with blue ink and honesty. Once a tough decision is now a given, we all choose swimming over sinking. Wasn’t sure I’d come to see you Adam when you said you needed to say goodbye. Wasn’t sure I’d write a letter brave enough to make you cry. Church show in the basement, you kissed my head and said: “remember I’ll always be around if you’re looking for a friend.” There are stories I haven’t been making and there’s ones I haven’t told I didn’t always have this weight on my shoulders but I was born with this creaking in my bones. It was out of character and I was tired but I grabbed my things and left. To make the memories I’ll remember I have to do things I won’t forget. It took another drive to chicago to remind me of better things. Thank you chicago for once again reminding me that half of life is struggle but the other is poetry. Half of life is struggle but the other is meant for us to see, half of life is struggle but the other is poetry. // There’s a promise I made to myself that I intend to keep: to see half of life is struggle but the other is pure poetry.

credits

released February 7, 2014

Recorded in 2013 with Nick Nativo at The Nook Recording Studio in New Lenox, IL.

All tracks recorded by Elizabeth Krunnfusz with the exception of:
Charlie McKeown [electric guitar - tracks 2, 6]
Nick Nativo [bass - track 2]

THANKS + DEDICATIONS in liner notes (downloaded with the full album) and available on facebook and tumblr

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Elizabeth Carol K Chicago, Illinois

practicing honesty

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