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sicltor: volume 3

(songs i could listen to on repeat)

By lucyjbPublished 4 months ago 13 min read
sicltor: volume 3
Photo by C D-X on Unsplash

vol 1

vol 2


these don't need to be read in any specific order but i'd recommend listening to the song at least once

21. Kitchen Light by Xana

And the stars are so bright and they a rhythm in the sky. We glide through the fog and laugh together; I touch you and you touch me and there is nothing like the way it feels to be touched by you.

The rain comes into my room because I left the window open for you.

But I never want to look at you from a distance. I want to watch the way your smile quirks and I want to see the light in your eyes when you laugh and I want to be the one to hold you when you cry.

I watch you, I watch your hand in his and I watch as you leave, still touching him like I want to touch you. And now I am alone? I am alone.

You come back, so softly but I can feel the way you move me; I can feel the way it hurts to hope. Let's leave this place, let's go far away and never come back.

The light is red, but I don’t want to stop, I want to go faster and faster until we leave this town, until we make it out.

We didn't make it past the kitchen light; because every taste of you is the nectar of the gods and I don't think I ever want to stop worshiping you. But the world keeps turning and the leaves fall in the autumn and the winds blow in winter; somehow I have broken my own heart and the cracks keep growing and I think maybe you are the only person who might be able to heal them. Me and my broken heart, always coming back to you.

But oh, Lover, I’ve missed you

In the passenger seat of your car and I can feel the wind through my hair and the music is so loud and it is beating in me.

Everything is blue.

And it's the fact that i want to touch you and the fact that i am craving the way you feel craving your touch and your laugh and your smile.

But my heart is cracking. And it hurts to know that you are the one doing the breaking.

But I can't be mad I am so mad and now I am alone, so alone but even when I am next to you, my heart is still breaking.

I can't be wrong.

And we whisper until our voices are gone and time slows down and you're whispering the world to me, and as the embers burn out I want to touch you like I've never touched anyone before.

But I could be him. I could grip your hand like he does and I would hold you and touch you and fuck you better than him.

And every word from you is like going into a trance and you give me your deepest secrets and I give you mine.

But he keeps being there he keeps looking at you like I want to look at you keeps making you laugh like I want to make you laugh. I am alone with my hands in my pockets and you are fucking him and I can't be wrong to be craving you.

But the kitchen light is going dark and there are shadows haunting every dark corner, but we didn't even make it past the kitchen light and sometimes I think that you are the love of my life and what would that do? Could you love me like I love you? Do you?

Nobody is like you. Nobody misses you the way I miss you.

But you still touch me and you still wrap your arms around my body and I am your home and you are my party and how do you stop a love like ours?

How are we ever going to know?

22. Far Too Young to Die by Panic! at the Disco

It's something about how I can see them. Something about how I feel as if I am panning in from above, getting the perfect camera shot, just as the music drops. And the walls are gold, the tiles are glittering the soft chatter is filling the room. The clinking of glasses and the laughter of groups. The soft strumming of the music and the sound of feet dancing on stone. It's beautiful, it's graceful and sometimes I think that maybe this song was always meant for them.

They are far too young to die, aren't they?

But have they grown out of being tragic, yet?

I've never so adored you.

The world is flipped upside down and you are the only person who seems to be upright with me. Is that it? Are we special? Fixation or psychosis?

I never really thought that you'd come tonight. I'm surprised to see you.

And he smirks and he blushes.

Not disappointed, I hope.

And then they are both blushing.

It's almost as if the music is echoing itself in that ballroom, as if the echoes are crashing into each other. And I feel complicated I feel everything and I feel everything and I feel nothing and I think maybe you feel complicated, too; so maybe we could be complicated together?

It is all a trap and you are the bait, but I think that maybe we are the only ones keeping the bar over us from snapping. Will you let me do this to myself? Will I let myself do this to you? We are asking the same questions and I think I hope that maybe we are coming to the same conclusions.

We are so divided, the crowns are heavy on either side and your eyebrows are scrunched up with an almost cute worry, and it feels as if something is twisting inside me.

I want you to think about me, I want you closer, I want endless stories and I want one last kiss because we are far too young to die, right?

But we are far too old to be tragic.

And they play us out, they pull their sounds this way and that until they have faded from the air and you can't help but to wonder where they could've gone.

But we have no control because when we burn we are bright and hot and untouchable. We are roaring and out of touch and we plea our devotion to the words and the way the notes dance and the unrelenting feeling of being understood. Adored.

We break the silence at the edges of the world.

We love the world’s hated.

And we can know and we can try and we can fail and we can succeed.

But we will never know who let the trap snap shut on us both.

23. Clean by Taylor Swift

They withered away in drought. They died of thirst.

But if you were drowning, would you not wish for their drought?

They decayed in roaring floods. They died in dark waters.

But if your world went bone dry, would you not wish to be carried away in their floods?

When the war is lost I think I will find a place that pours the clearest rainwater in shades of blue, a place where I can watch our flowers die of thirst if I fucking want to. A place where maybe there is nothing to risk because maybe there is nothing at all.

But I didn't expect to wake up today and there is something about the morning sun that won't stop following me. Maybe I miss the way the flowers wilted or maybe I miss the way it was so easy to give in.

And sometimes I think that I want to drown so the world can breathe. sometimes i think i want to scream so loud that no one heard a thing. sometimes I think that I want to chase you back and forth through the months until we are running together.

I am stained with ashes and melancholy, I am stained with wine and you, and it's a stain that won't come out no matter how hard you scrub. and somehow your grip on my heart has loosened and I think I can breathe again. but this trace of you is a stain and and I don't know if it will finally come clean

The storm is so angry with the world and the clouds are black and looming, and I am scared of the electricity in their shadows and the drowning in their depths, I am scared of the way they blow cold through the air and I am wondering if maybe I should ask them to blow away ever trace of you until you are gone.

And I think maybe our options are running low, maybe the butterfly has turned to dust, maybe it can no longer change the future

all I can do is hang my head as I lost the war and the hole in the roof is letting the downpour in and there is the feeling of water running down your skin and rain pouring down and down and down and down and your hair is wet and the strands move in elegant waves and you can see the droplets cling to your eyelashes and you think about how sometimes the world is much more beautiful than we deserve.

I am hollow because sometimes I think that maybe I will never be clean again.

24. i did this all for you! by Xana

I think there is something about the way your enchantments make me feel fixed again and I think there is something about how this world is worthless and I think there is something about how a worthless world gave me you.

Sometimes I think I am seeing the letters as you do and sometimes I think I am watching the way you rearrange the poetry that you carve into my bones. But the way I can feel how something that was once me is not anymore, and the way I can feel how a piece of me is no longer mine makes me mourn the empty spaces, and I can't find it in me to rejoice in the way your words are part of me for the rest of my damn life because now I think that I will always be a little bit broken.

And somehow you are a relentless tide, but I walk in the shallows and I watch how the ripples give up on this worthless world to seek the riptides of far away currents.

I see the way the water is one and I want the ocean to make me hers and I want to get lost in your current and pulled away by your riptides.

And I think I can feel the moon move its tides and I think I can feel the stars when they roll their eyes and I think I can see why everyone strives for their own happy afters.

But I have loved you all this time and I could never go and I think it's because I don't know why you want me to. I see that your candle doesn't hold a flame and you have made me into fire and I think I knew you'd change your mind because when I wished for you to save me none of my wishes came true.

I am bitter with this worthless world because I can see it throw around its empty promises and I hate that I thought a promise was something that couldn't be broken.

Sometimes I think I am seeing the world through you and your head is one suspended in pastel fog, but I see through the clouds and somehow your world doesn't hurt the same as mine and I hate that I think I like your hurt more than I do my own.

You are so full of mistakes and I can see the mess in your fog and I am afraid that my hurt will scare you away because I think that the crazy in my head will never go away and you don't want to help me carry my burden as I carry yours.

But I can't stop savoring the taste of giving myself to you and I think that maybe you are the sun and I am just here to watch you rise.

And I down every bottle because maybe the poetry is better when its blurred, maybe reading the words with your voice could change the things they say because if they don’t then I think I have become a person who collects broken promises.

I knew you'd change your mind and you told me to go and I would never because I can feel how maybe we will never be over.

But I did this all for you.

25. You Don't Go To Parties by 5 Seconds of Summer

It's five a.m. and I am looking for you.

But the world is crowded with my ghosts and they carry their dreariness everywhere they go. I am looking at the world through the wrong lens and nothing is where it should be and I think that maybe I am starting to come undone because in the moments I spend looking for you there is hope again.

It is the pressure. It is believing in the world when the world won't believe in you and it is an act of devastation as it crushes hope underfoot.

We were heavy and the way the beats sounded against the earth is ringing in my head and there is something about the way I turn to see your face and the way it is not there to see.

And sometimes I can feel the way they circle us with the joy of a hunt in their eyes, but I think they will only be disappointed, because there is nothing left of me to hunt, because I have lost too many pieces to be complete.

I have so many words for you, words for all the years, but when I speak them you are not there to listen, and even when the world is crowded, nobody hears our words but the river runs from my mouth anyway. The night is turning late and I think that maybe it would be better if I could kick my mind out of my head and live in a brain with no thoughts.

In a house with no memories or a couch with no cushions.

It's the way I wonder who I'm looking for with spiteful words and how my own voice crushes hope in its tracks, it's how the dark calls my name and how I take my foot off of the brake in response, because somehow I am a monster, and I am starting to think that it was you who made me that way.

But the lonely nights are adding up, and the high of being stupid doesn't look so much like a tragedy from this angle.

And somehow the world is moving too fast and my limits are lost in a churning haze of pink and blue and the way I am in the darkness attracts his attention and I am struggling under Atlas’ burden just as he is.

But the weight of everything is coming undone and I am caught up in the way passion is supposed to feel, but everything is unraveling and everything is distracting, and there is something about the world that is fatal and something about fatality that is essential to the world. I want to want things and I want to feel things and I want the words to get to you and I know they won't.

I am always too late.

I am wondering and wondering and wondering where to look and I am back where I started.

Because it's 5am and I am looking for you.

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