1. |
pollinating
02:39
|
|||
|
hiding face in the stagnant space between your breaths
hexing harshly with a dying pen for this
speaking soft and stuttering
through breaths from a chest thats best left fluttering
6(66) years left with empty hands, menacing
clenching sheets in those fists productively
again
unraveling from the seams, it seems
i can only fuck someone else who has anxiety
painted green on everything
ill never end up settling
laying your silt on my skin
but still coming home clean
|
||||
2. |
entropy
01:19
|
|||
|
i need to learn how to shut my mouth
and readdress my relationships with rainclouds
i've been wearing the same shirt for too long
and the seems near my neck are sowed with sweat
wondering why modest mouse always references the freeway
and thinking of the ex-girlfriends who probably hate me
i'm empty on the inside relying on others to fill me
i guess thats where i went wrong and i'm sorry
|
||||
3. |
bodily currencies
02:18
|
|||
|
stood up for my old self
with an empty stomach and a sink full of rot
pockets full of lucky silver dollars
and masochism
trading my charm for a plot
in an attic full of rubble
cleaning my arms yet another time
and selling souls to my ex-lover
on somebody else's dime
drifted from each other
like water
her body wasn't made from a flesh
of which i was familiar
standing with your bones under my boots
in my favorite black dress that you cant see my spine thorough
|
||||
4. |
for a dead girl
02:22
|
|||
|
only tangible through handwriting
on a scrap of paper stuffed inside a box
zoning out to hymie's basement
once again
to remain on the right side of sane
insane
i'm unsure as of yet
on how to determine
an encyclopedia from a landslide
lost like your pocket portrait
in a deck of cards
we only drew bad hands from
wore grief on green sleeves
with no hope to succeed
the days inch by
as the years are trampling
cant find home in houses
and i feel foreign in my body
to live through old finger prints
is a shitty way to leave
don't leave
|
||||
5. |
tar
01:10
|
|||
|
crushed dandelions
and little flowers
imprints from the impact
from the impact
time is on the other team
get the fuck away from me
|
||||
6. |
hemlock
01:58
|
|||
|
our closet was full of deer
we pulled out from the water
collected each tooth
onto silver saucers
waded to our necks in tall grass
to retrieve them
returning to sleep in houses
best left condemned
with secrets beneath the floor boards
that i wrote into the mold, running forwards
while
wet marrow turned bone dry and brittle
waisting time confessing affection as riddles
braising your skin with hemlock
i am just a boy who cant talk
every things the same still
except i'm here and you're
not
|
||||
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