red thread feat. Maddie Cramer
from good morning, cruel world by Nico!
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about
a poem about a former relationship, featuring lyrics by Maddie Cramer.
lyrics
when we were falling in love
he told me that he felt we
were destined
that we were tied together
at our little fingers
by a red thread of fate.
that it would never be severed
no matter the distance.
he was my first love.
i believed him.
and even across state lines,
i could feel him tugging
on that string and i
would tug back.
we would share
all that we could:
text messages
and phone calls.
the instant gratification
only technology can provide
to say
you are loved.
you are loved.
you are loved.
he tied more threads.
he slipknotted them
around each of my fingers.
he told me i held his fate
in my hands.
i thought this
was beautiful
at first.
one day, i realized
i could no longer move
without him knowing.
i could no longer speak
without him hearing.
i could not leave
without him threatening
to sever every thread
inside of his body.
i could not set our thread on fire
without it running like a fuse
to his burning temper.
i knew i would not escape the blast.
he kept tugging
but this time, it meant something new
each text and phone call rang like:
you are mine. you are mine. you are mine.
i remember the way
his panic would tighten
like a crying throat
when i didn’t respond in time.
so i would let him
guide my fingers -
my nerves had worn themselves
away long ago
it was easier to let him
move my atrophied muscles
to where he wanted them.
that is why
i could not tell you when things changed.
falling asleep
is like that.
and i had been asleep
for a long time.
one morning, i woke up
with my severed fingers
on the floor.
20 missed calls.
100 unread messages
and voicemails that echoed every word
i couldn’t have imagined
in his mouth
when i first fell in love
with his smile.
the night before
after a week of studying
and sleep deprivation
i had fallen asleep early
without telling him.
he could not stand
pulling on the string
and feeling nothing
in return.
i want to tell you
i didn’t call him back.
abuse
does not always work that way though.
instead, his honeymoon phase
waxed to shed light on my forgiveness -
he held my hand
so tenderly
as he used the thread between us
to sew my fingers back.
that’s how he got under my skin.
it felt like if i cut our thread
i’d be broken again.
he told me i couldn’t heal
without him.
i want to tell you i left him
but that would be a lie.
i can just tell you
that i woke up one day
afraid of cat’s cradle
jacob’s ladder
wedding rings.
i can just tell you
that these days, the threads i tie
are loose. slip away easy
when pulled.
some call this ‘commitment issues.’
i call it survival.
he told me that he felt we
were destined
that we were tied together
at our little fingers
by a red thread of fate.
that it would never be severed
no matter the distance.
he was my first love.
i believed him.
and even across state lines,
i could feel him tugging
on that string and i
would tug back.
we would share
all that we could:
text messages
and phone calls.
the instant gratification
only technology can provide
to say
you are loved.
you are loved.
you are loved.
he tied more threads.
he slipknotted them
around each of my fingers.
he told me i held his fate
in my hands.
i thought this
was beautiful
at first.
one day, i realized
i could no longer move
without him knowing.
i could no longer speak
without him hearing.
i could not leave
without him threatening
to sever every thread
inside of his body.
i could not set our thread on fire
without it running like a fuse
to his burning temper.
i knew i would not escape the blast.
he kept tugging
but this time, it meant something new
each text and phone call rang like:
you are mine. you are mine. you are mine.
i remember the way
his panic would tighten
like a crying throat
when i didn’t respond in time.
so i would let him
guide my fingers -
my nerves had worn themselves
away long ago
it was easier to let him
move my atrophied muscles
to where he wanted them.
that is why
i could not tell you when things changed.
falling asleep
is like that.
and i had been asleep
for a long time.
one morning, i woke up
with my severed fingers
on the floor.
20 missed calls.
100 unread messages
and voicemails that echoed every word
i couldn’t have imagined
in his mouth
when i first fell in love
with his smile.
the night before
after a week of studying
and sleep deprivation
i had fallen asleep early
without telling him.
he could not stand
pulling on the string
and feeling nothing
in return.
i want to tell you
i didn’t call him back.
abuse
does not always work that way though.
instead, his honeymoon phase
waxed to shed light on my forgiveness -
he held my hand
so tenderly
as he used the thread between us
to sew my fingers back.
that’s how he got under my skin.
it felt like if i cut our thread
i’d be broken again.
he told me i couldn’t heal
without him.
i want to tell you i left him
but that would be a lie.
i can just tell you
that i woke up one day
afraid of cat’s cradle
jacob’s ladder
wedding rings.
i can just tell you
that these days, the threads i tie
are loose. slip away easy
when pulled.
some call this ‘commitment issues.’
i call it survival.
credits
from good morning, cruel world,
released August 1, 2016
Poem -- Nico Wilkinson
Guitar and Lyrics -- Maddie Cramer
Poem -- Nico Wilkinson
Guitar and Lyrics -- Maddie Cramer
license
all rights reserved
tags
about
Nico! Colorado Springs, Colorado
i'm a genderqueer spoken word poet that lives in colorado springs. i write identity stuff, body stuff, brain stuff. i write about the things that make me get out of bed in the morning.
discography
-
Aug 2016
contact / help
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