PLEASE DIE

Here´s the song that got in the way, and was succumbed to trials and tribulations, alsmost as if something wanted me NOT to release it. So in the end I decided to give you, as with other songs, this version we have now, which is, presumably, not the final version you´ ll hear in a few weeks, but nevertheless it transports what I wanted to tell, maybe in a way that is rather raw than beautiful. Tell me what you think.

I´ ve trigger warned you before. This is a song about sexual abuse of a dependant. Be it a child, a kidnapper´ s victim, or a catalogue bride. I know these victims rarely find a voice to scream even in their own minds. So I wanted to give them one. Maybe this helps someone. Maybe not. I can at least try.

The lyrics:

 

He lifts the cover ever so softly

He smiles so friendly and strokes her hair

Oh are you cold dear, here, let me warm you

his hand is hot indeed but makes her freeze

She is so young still and has nobody

maybe he´s right in all that he does

maybe she´s wrong in feeling a victim

maybe it´s her fault and she´s here to please

but in her mind she screams

Throw yourself out of the window

Shoot yourself in the head

Make yourself feel like I do

Know what you´re doing is ever so bad

Hack off your hands that abuse me

Throttle yourself to death

While you´re at it please castrate yourself

I wish someone before me had

Oh please die – oh please die – oh please die

He crawls in the bed, snuggles beside her

tugs at her nightgown and pulls it up

Oh you´re so hot dear, here, let me show you

what good I can do only for you

He says he loves her but never asks her

what she is feeling, if she´s alive

maybe she´s human, maybe his soft toy

it doesn´t matter, she´s there to please

Maybe there will come the day

Where she will run away

And when he finds her, threatens to blind her,

she gropes behind her and …

screams

I am very lucky to never have endured such a monstrous crime. But I wanted to make sure that I don´ t overstep a border, or worse, make victims feel mocked at, or whatever. So I asked around in the Patreon group of Amanda Palmer where I knew several victims who had told their stories before. Here´ s a few of the responses I got:

„Yes, that is pretty much what it feels like. … the anger part seems to come from years later. It took me decades to feel angry  about anything that happened. It was all frozen before that.“

“ Sehr treffend…. Wobei ich mir tatsächlich öfter den Tod gewünscht habe als ihm.“

“ This. The emotions in the lines really hit home. Except from the part holding him responsible. I didn’t do it then, I was so broken, so brainwashed. It’s still hard to place all the responsibility and guilt with him, even now 12 years after my escape. But this hits really close to home. God.“

“ Just the part about the warm hands. Fuck. He had the warmest hands ever. They burned. And I froze. Like a deer in the head lights. The not ever knowing what was coming. Like would he just „caress“ or would he first do that and then just beat the living hell out of me while getting his way. I’m sorry to pour this on you. You just hit a nerve. Thank you. Biggest hug back to you. People like me need people like you (who haven’t experienced this kind of abuse) to understand. To know that we couldn’t „just leave.“ Thank you.“

“ I think it’s beautiful. Rage inducing but validating too.“

“ it feels… relevant.“

Maybe you can understand how these conversations haunted me for weeks.

Let them haunt you.

Love,

Feline

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