Make My Bed
June 15th, 2018
Columbia Records/ Zelig Records
I’ve started to clench my teeth before falling asleep.
I never used to do this before. But, before, I didn’t harbor secrets.
I found King Princess when I was looking for answers about my sexuality. Her album was not the answer that I expected the universe to eventually dole out, but it wasn’t entirely the wrong one either.
The head rush hum of “Talia” plays through my headphones while I sit straight up in bed hours after I’ve announced to my roommates that I was retiring for the night. Cool air attacks the small of my back through the window behind me. But I’m fully invincible now, and it’s like wearing a glistening dress of the most flawless chain metal and slinking through a crowd straight to the queen.
She’s waiting for me. I am her King now.
In every daydream, there was energy. I see myself wielding daggers, protecting others. Protecting myself. But this whole time I’ve been “falling in love” like if I do it right I’ll get extra credit. Some bullshit that’s been.
Now maybe I’ll find a princess, a summery sprite whose laugh cleanses the Earth over and over again, and it will be easier to smile. Harder to breathe. My eyes look wild and blessed in my foggy bathroom mirror.
I feel like I’ve been travelling to find myself for years, at least these first few years of college, and never packed the right tools. Maybe I had a bendy straw, popcorn, and a stretched out hair tie instead of water and a pocketknife. I was always wearing the wrong shoes to be navigating my sexuality, I’ll tell you that.
But maybe I never needed an armory, but an album. Something I could play when the grinding of my teeth woke me up to remind me that I’m twice as full of love as I anticipated. Something inside says: Don’t worry, sweet girl, you’ll just need twice as many people to share it with come tomorrow.
King Princess is the white noise for being electric and new. A gentle spiritual guide for realizing your lucidity in the dark while you fall in love with both men and women.
Drink of choice: Moscow Mule. From a can.