1. |
Counting Orchids
03:24
|
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walking in no direction
an obscure path
disengaged
i was counting the orchids
when you asked
if we "took
too many
tabs this time"
but that didn't matter
because i was boxed in
by my own dissatisfaction
i hadn't blossomed
that was the
last time you
ever saw
my face again
i never felt identified
and now i'll never know
no andromeda medication
could pull me out of my foxhole
pardoned myself
from all relevance
at that point
i wanted nothing
|
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2. |
Language As A Concept
01:40
|
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translucent stream of thought
i can't comprehend the recycling
white wall of noise
rising in frequency
smearing the peripheral
cobalt sky that
i am trying so hard
to concentrate on
whatever words are being said
i can't put together
phrases and sentences
but language as a concept
is clear to me
i'm fucking blunted
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3. |
Broat
03:11
|
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she said this would be a disaster
sails tear waves tore
though the hull faster
than we could reach the shore
cast away of all rapture
body trembling and overwhelmed
nothing left to hold onto
lack of faith no god could help
everything sank into
the ancient mariner's abyss
down at the bottom
where mermaids weep
no air in my lungs
the skies watch me sinking
not floating back up
with life in me
violent winds scatter
my life's work
hope dwindles lower
every second
the sea
she swallowed me whole
the waves crash upon
my sea-torn flesh
red in the water
sleeping with fish
as she waits on the shore
anxiously
months turn to years
years grew her tired
still she waits
patiently
in fucking vain
|
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4. |
Emeralds & Opals
03:57
|
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a viaduct of contemplation
tattered and worn
crossing over, through decisions
in which i'm not confident
showered in emeralds
and black opals
bathed in distinct timeframes
but no reminiscence of ease
diverged in golden pastel
canvases of an eroded spirit
that i was a vessel
here, i wake in degredation
|
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