The Cost of Function

Function Forged from Absence

Play the music. Enter the echo of function.

I’m a psycho.. let’s not pretend.
No need to heal, no need to mend.
I got this way through what I lacked,
No hugs, no handouts, just cold fact.

I didn’t grow with love or grace,
I found my rhythm in empty space.
Where others laughed, I learned to strive.
And that’s how I survived… and thrive.

Focus sharp, distractions few,
No one cared, so I pushed through.
No warmth, no joy, no safety net,
Just goals and deadlines firmly set.

I earned a job that pays me well,
A quiet kind of personal hell.
But it works… it keeps me sane,
Don’t need your pleasure, don’t want your pain.

I don’t need to smile or feel delight,
Or share some joke on Saturday night.
No need to give you joy or fun,
Or feel like I should be “the one.”

I operate in brutal ways,
With empty nights and stacked-up days.
No yearning left for touch or thrill,
Just concrete thought and silent will.

And you… you shine, you’re good, you burn,
And still I’ll never feel that turn.
Because no matter how you heal,
You’ll never change the way I feel.

So if it hurts… and yes, it does…
That’s just the price for what this was.
You think your light could make me bend?
It only shows where things won’t mend.

And though it’s terrible, and raw, and tight…
The way you care, the way you fight…
No joy you give could ever trade
For all the wreckage I’ve not made.

I don’t deserve you. That’s the truth.
I missed that train back in my youth.
But this machine, this mind, this role…
It cost me love. But made me whole.

🎵 : 'Falling Together' by Scott Buckley
Released under CC-BY 4.0.
www.scottbuckley.com.au