Home » Poems » Matthew Bailey » I'm a Little Masochistic, But Not in the Way you Think

I'm a Little Masochistic, But Not in the Way you Think

I'd give you the shirt off my back
But only because I'd need you to like me
The eyesore that is your beat up honda in the driveway 
I said I would call but I can see you didn’t believe that

Christmas family gathering but Jesus couldn’t make it 
Cigarette burns on the couch and drawers empty of what would've been a year of savings
He could’ve made it, he didn’t wanna come 
I thought I heard someone say the disfunction makes it fun

The eyesore that is this hotel room 
A pounding headache and a bowl of weed is my best friend right now,
Is my only friend right now
These windows lock for a reason 
And these sheets creep off you for a reason 
Watch the seasons fall as I show the world how long I can stay in one place 

Christmas family gathering but Jesus couldn’t make it
He could’ve made it, he didn’t wanna come 
And why would he?
He didn’t wanna try and avoid the cigarette burns 
and hear the whispers of a ruby necklace she can’t find 
I couldn’t leave,
I couldn’t leave you with that face 
Why would you stay?
I’m taking this one to the grave 

I’ve seen masochists less willing to suffer,  
Waiting to pull shotguns on each other

I’m taking this to the grave 
I’m taking this to the grave and I don’t care 
There’s no morally gray,  
If no one has anything to ponder 

I couldn’t leave,
I couldn’t leave you with that face 
Why would you stay?
I’m taking this one to the grave 

I’ve seen masochists less willing to suffer,  
just waiting to pull shotguns on each other

I couldn’t leave,
I couldn’t leave you with that face 
Why would you stay?
I’m taking this one to the grave 
I’m taking this one to the grave 
Oh, the headache that is your speech of what is morally gray 
I hope you know but you’ll never know
I’m taking this one to the grave

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