1. |
New Storm
01:59
|
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|
Sleep is a ghost and I loathe that
the earth turns slowly, so slowly.
I can't spend all this time waiting.
I've watched the sky’s grating against my eyes.
Wake up in mornings drenched with unrest.
Fall from one dream to the next. In
this one: I'm tied up and waiting for this
train to come and rip me to shreds;
cold pieces; damp pieces of life. Squished
by the pressure of this sick skull, I
clamber and stammer to pull words
empty and wasted from this tongue, flapping
and tasting the earth; cold, damp; fitting
yet distant, this sky smolders with
the black clouds of a new storm.
|
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2. |
APA
02:32
|
|||
|
Fade like the light. Disappear.
At night I see her face
and the skin is rotten.
I touch it with my hands.
It slides off. I slide off every
obstacle swiftly. A gift for
avoidance leads to solitude.
These orange bottles provide
a solitude of the skull. Quiet
the mind you foolish maniac;
listen with your ears to the flames,
can you hear the pain? Try to
understand, blood is a kind
of currency, a sustainable
currency—we are rich;
we are rich. There is
always something better
waiting for you, but you'll
always end up where you
started. You'll end up
where you started.
|
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3. |
Sleep Paralysis
02:59
|
|||
|
Held down by invisible hands.
Still alive. Look up and see.
Crawl toward me. I can feed
you what of me is left. Holy rot.
Growing. Fallow. Blasted earth.
We watch you disappear
across the room.
|
||||
4. |
The House I Grew Up In
04:04
|
|||
|
The shape of the neighborhood I grew up in
is shifting to something I don't fit inside of.
Force me out. I've heard that the sky is
meaning. I've learned that every smile is
a weak kind of admission. I know very few
things well. But I know you. I know that
every time you speak I grow warm
and then in silence I grow cold.
I cannot be a candle for your flame.
I'd rather be a torch, thrown at the house
I grew up in. It's far too easy to burn.
Everything I love is a loss. Every time
I sleep I toss and turn into oblivion.
It's too easy to see the reasons
why I can't sleep, why I can't
dream more than glimpses
of red. All of it, all of it:
I'm tired of love being a loss.
And I feel your words rip out
of me, wrap their hands around
my teeth as I look at myself in
the mirror. I'd break, I'd break
the glass if ever it meant not
seeing me, it meant not seeing
me. I feel, I feel your words rip
out of me, wrap their hands
around my teeth as I look
at myself in the mirror,
as I look in the mirror.
I'd break the glass if
ever it meant not
seeing me.
|
||||
5. |
Bury You By the Sea
03:24
|
|||
|
See the footprints of past lives splintering
across the land; nothing grows here.
Nothing I know serves me as the water
coasts up the walls. Drowning
is a new kind of fear. It only
comes about when you're near
the water. I am more afraid of fire.
I'd rather drown. I'd rather drown.
I'd rather own the feelings than take
them for granted. I'd rather build,
build like a boardwalk, sink like
a sandpit, fall like a crashing wave,
than pretend that love is some kind
of statue to be licked and kissed,
to be worshipped. I will not worship
you. I will not criticize you either.
I will not be the toxic acid you
want from me. I will tend to you
like a flower, like a tree. And if
you die, I will bury you by the sea.
I will bury you by the sea, by the sea,
by the sea. Don't feed the thoughts
that gather like hungry sheep. How
long do I have to wait for these
eyes to die? How long is
the reach of misery?
|
||||
Ambien Fairfax, Virginia
when we sleep we float like ghosts
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