My Safe Place

I can’t make a new album… I’m not allowed to. ’The Great Impersonator’ didn’t perform the way they thought it would. It sold 100k copies first week, that’s a pretty big first week…the tour is the highest selling tour of my career. But they want ‘MANIC’ numbers from me. I can’t do that every time. It should be good enough I do it once in a while…I’m not a pop star anymore, but I’m being compared to numbers and people that I don’t consider lateral to me.”

Billboard 200: No. 2.

Billboard Top Album Sales: No. 2.

Billboard Vinyl Albums: No. 3.

Billboard Top Rock & Alternative Albums: Debuted at No. 1.

Total First-Week Units: 93,000.

Traditional Album Sales: 81,000.

Vinyl Sales: 26,000 units from vinyl.

BADLANDS DECADE EDITION VINYLS AND CDS AVAILABLE NOW.

Discussion of suicidal ideation and sex as a unenthusiastic performance below the cut

like animal carcass.

I am splayed open, salted and tenderized.

My fatty bits sectioned off with bakers twine.

Red juices weep from my wounds.

Not blood, but the meat sweating

for better flavor.

A heavy palm comes down hard on my rump.

He lifts from the flank.

He samples the breast.

Hunger animates his body but he knows he must wait until the meat is ready.

He massages oils into the fibrous texture.

Working it in with the strong flat pads of his thumbs and fingers.

The meat is shivering.

The meat is shaking.

I’m told this is a chemical process.

Even once dead and removed from the body,

the meat dances on the table.

Due to the residual energy and nerve endings present in the tissue.

The flesh will twitch.

But it must be ready.

When it is ready he’ll carve it off in slabs,

and drop them into his mouth;

a mouse falling into the mouth of a snake

hanging by the tail.

He’ll glide the knife under the muscle

and it will slide down his throat

but it must be ready.

The meat is hanging but will not dry.

It drips

and drips

more juices.

The air is escaping.

The tendons are loosening.

He ties her off again and again.

Soon little lamb.

Soon.

In the chapel,

in a bedroom,

in an alley late at night.

Always facing an inflated

godlike

version of some guy.

But as a girl you do what you need to survive.

You open wider, take the body.

Thank your father, you’ve been naughty.

2 Hail Marys, 20 lashings.

“I’ve been sent to punish you for daring to exist.

You will never know a love as meaningful as this.”

I’ve memorized

the lines

since I was 10.

From the Bible,

from the playbook,

from the magazines for men.

If you should mess it up, you’ll start again.

But, still, they only want

the women

they condemn.

I think that I’d have too much fun in hell.

With the pagans

and the hedonists

and sapphics there as well.

Purgatory seems the better fit

I can’t stand waiting in the corner,

but I do love being hit.

There’s not a torture you can prescribe

that I wouldn’t find

a way to like.

Every single second I’m alive

I’m sharpening an axe I’d like to grind.

“I was sent to punish you

for the way I was designed.

You will never know a love

that you fear more than mine.”

Happy first month to the album that i'll cherish for the rest of my life!!

I can´t stop thinking about it so here is a David Carson inspired poster for Dog Years.

@tiredandlonelymuse

if you knew it was the end of the world, could you love me like a child? could you hold me in the dark? if you knew it was the end of the world, would you like to stay a while? would you leave when it gets dark?

and

if there's nothing missing in my life, then why do these tears come at night?

and

when you're done you can discard me like the others always do and i will nurse my wounds until another artist needs me new

and

i'm way too nice and too forgiving, i wanna go back to the beginning when it all felt right