the cancer of my tongue behind my teeth

by anna ladd

/
  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

      $3 USD  or more

     

  • Full Digital Discography

    Get all 5 anna ladd releases available on Bandcamp and save 25%.

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of the boulder in my belly is a peanut butter jelly, pity party, SAD 4 SAD, the cancer of my tongue behind my teeth, and personality inventory. , and , .

      $5.25 USD or more (25% OFF)

     

  • cd + lyric zine
    Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    a CD, a lyric zine, a cute lil homemade pouch !

    Includes unlimited streaming of the cancer of my tongue behind my teeth via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

    Sold Out

1.
01:35
2.
3.
4.
00:56
5.
6.
01:32
7.
8.
01:23

about

a mix of spoken word and bedroom pop and just enough reverb so that no one actually has to hear me sing /// a continuation of the personal music video for avril's sk8r boi that i forced my brother to film when i was 8

credits

released June 17, 2015

tags

license

all rights reserved

about

anna ladd Massachusetts

timid punk

contact / help

Contact anna ladd

Streaming and
Download help

Track Name: wasps
i have no memories from the house that i was born in. my parents tried to take me back one time but it was torn down, another built in its place in the backyard. whenever they talk about it, they tell me about the time they found me in my crib, surrounded by wasps. we moved and they remained dormant, trailing behind me up I95.

i'm always asking about stories like that, from the time before i could make memories. anyone could lie when telling their kid about their first christmas, but we don't question the truth here like we do everywhere else. i salivate to fill these gaps.

i wonder if i'm inquisitive or if i just like the sound of my own voice. maybe both, maybe neither, maybe just the buzz that rings through my throat.
Track Name: natural selection
natural selection vs.
my youthful resurrection
myself on a stranger's bathroom floor
my free condom collection
is offering protection
for everything but my head and core
no sense of direction
a personal rejection
of the lump that is growing in my throat
there may be a connection
some kind of intersection
with these lost lovesick poems that i wrote

oh, natural selection vs.
this god damn eye infection
you promised me that alcohol kills germs
all this introspection
don't know my own reflection
i think i have a lot left to learn
my arteries are clogging
my teeth are likely rotting
my body's giving out day by day
there is no sign of stopping
my head will not quit throbbing
i've resigned myself to this decay

natural selection vs.
my blotchy, red complexion
this year is finally coming to a close
an anxious predilection
i'm begging for affection
aching from my head to my toes
maybe the golden section
can frame my trash collection
as something more than lawless disarray
natural selection vs.
my youthful resurrection
i'm just happy that i made it through the day
Track Name: everyone's an old friend
everyone's an old friend
when you settle down and think
everyone's an old friend
when you don't pick up the drink
everyone's an old friend
when you separate yourself
everyone's an old friend
and the constant is myself
the constant is myself
the constant is myself
Track Name: empathy
i'm trying to drown out this conference call
with tunes i liked in high school
you miserable department head
go sit somewhere else instead
my bubble does not like
you corporate structure types
who look at me like i'll go nowhere
other than where this train takes us

sorry if i sound little hostile
but i feel like i've got something to prove
and my outsider complex makes it hard
to empathize with you
Track Name: fighting fire with fire
the universe asks me to be quiet
to shut down and go back to bed
the universe wants me to be patient
to wait instead of ask for more
oh i wish i had control

a stranger tells me to put some clothes on
a stranger spreads his legs into my space
a stranger tells me to keep my mouth shut
keep the cancer of my tongue behind my teeth
oh i wish i had control

i did not fucking ask for this
i did not fucking ask for this
i did not fucking ask for this
i did not fucking ask for this
i did not fucking ask for this
but you've asked for my response
and it's this:
if the truth makes you defensive
then blame yourself, not me
Track Name: piles
this is a love letter to the half finished beer on my dresser that i can guarantee will sit there for another month, next to the trash that builds, and builds, and builds until it crashes in the middle of the night.

this is a love letter to every poem i've managed to write without spitting out an apology. this is not one of them.

four years from now, i imagine the ways that you'll have to warn your friends about the doubt that runs through the water in virginia. and i will apologize for the time you've spent watching me develop the manic need to rearrange the couches, to purge the basement, to let things pile, and pile, and pile until they fall.
Track Name: recovery looks how i want it to
my stomach rumbles, tightens,
and i am seventeen again
a miniature notebook in my back pocket,
numbers that decrease in small increments with every turn of the page.
i am shrinking, a miniature self,
but not enough for lunch today.

my mom tells me that i look good.

my stomach bloats, stretches,
and i am eighteen, stagnant in my bed.
my heart trembles at the thought of leaving,
i am confined here with my thoughts and my microwave.
it takes a single afternoon to empty the cabinets,
to ward off these deafening thoughts that repeat themselves until i am full enough to deny them.
four bowls later, i am at peace.

my mom tells me that she is divorcing my dad.

my stomach expands, settles
and i am nineteen,
scouring the grocery store for something that feels right.
i shift defense mechanisms until one seems to stick,
plastic bags digging into my fingers.
this is the natural cure.
i force my thighs, my stomach, my reluctant midsection into my clothes every morning,
growing in ways i'm unsure about.

my mom asks if i'll join her at yoga tomorrow.

my twenty first approaches,
my feet tiptoe around my roommate's scale.
it occupies the bathroom that we share,
tempting me, alluring me,
a reminder that my worth looks different.

my mom asks me if i've lost weight.
Track Name: by trade
a day of deep breathing exercises
panic, mess, and lost surprises
wednesday morning therapy
with a guy who can't seem to get to me
i don't know who i am when i'm not sad

this routine, this routine
it owns my head, owns my head
and oh my head, my head, my head
owns my body