1. |
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not much has changed since you left
the walls are all still cluttered up with kitsch
but lately the trees' been scraping
the telephone wires over the balcony
do you miss the walk to my house
peeling off the bottom of your shoes
scuffed up from ruptured concrete
broken up by jagged roots
ive never felt so sentimental
taking photos of foxes in the street
that night you said it was silly
that everything means so much to me
am i my brothers keeper
holding on to what i wanted then
its been a year and im still
trying to figure out what i really meant
im exhausted, trying to fit the pieces back together
my muscles atrophy, it was never really worth the effort
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2. |
Pepsi/MountainDew/9/11
02:51
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i couldnt hold it in
spilled my guts again
all over the asphalt outside the
third floor apartment you dont wanna live in
youre scared of missing out
and ive been feigning doubt
that every stitch is purposeful
the curtains threadbare at the seams
its not the same to me
wilting aimlessly
im circling the block so you dont have to
watch me fuck up parallel parking
i dont remember much
other than feeling stuck
widening the distance between my
words and why im so fucking patient
and i know you heard my knees crack from the other room
i was bending over backwards just to tie my shoes
but there are rocks inside my pockets, cinderblocks around my feet
that i dont have the strength to move
can i stay the night on your floor
i need something sturdier to straighten out my spine
we can rearrange all of the cracks on your ceiling
into something more sentimental for me to memorize
i dont remember the last time it felt right
standing in your doorway, waiting for you to make up your mind
in hushed tones and bated breaths, deliberating when to wake
before the sun catches your brow, before your body learns to ache
oooooo
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3. |
Graft
01:55
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im impossibly numb
masticate my tongue
swap our lesser parts
the worse for wear
the ones that you dont love
count the notches on my chest
branches under my breasts
ill be the abacus
the scale for your
pound of flesh
press your fingers in my skull
rub veneer off my walls
mold me out of clay and
used syringes, tylenol
ill pass you the laurel
and we'll wait for it to bloom
i will weave you out of thorns
my ribcage is your loom
remind me of all of the places i missed while retracing your steps
the trenches we dug in your hunches over shoulders
the burrows where birds have been building their nests
the glass bottles lining your windowsill cast green shadows
on the wall of your kitchen and i'm learning to see them in
new states of matter that don't really matter to me, i dont mind
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4. |
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im marble mouthed and tripping over
words i never learned to say out loud
and i have built a home here
on the precipice of finding out
that every stranger ive felt
lurking in the margins of my
body is a prayer without a name
that answers back when i start calling
hand sewn dolls
out of mismatched socks
eightball button eyes stashed in the glove box
interlocking fingers
to dredge the beach
thumbing teeth along like rosary beads
willow branch tossed in the river
milkweed wilting in the heat
sprawled on american front lawns
watching all the monarchs flee
you dont know what you're after
and i dont know what i need
two stray dogs chasing their tails
biting at the air until it bleeds
spend august in rest stop bathrooms
humid like a open mouth
(listem this supposed to be something else but i cant rerecord)
ill leave the city when im done here
shedding skin lost on the crowd
ivy cracked bricks in the alley
tossing them into the empty lake
(simpsons sample that might get copyright striked)
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5. |
How to Believe in God
02:38
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(evangelical christian sermon)
dried lavender tossed straight into the wind
caught in hedged built over property lines
cleaning leaves out of dammed up storm drains
i swear to god i will never be that kid again
woah, im distracted
picking at the scabs on my hands
i dont have a eulogy prepared
so ill just sit as long as i can
and im breaking in
when you're not around
stealing back unscattered ashes
burying what you never could
in dusty photos, yellowed letters
never looked at in the eyes and now
left to my own devices i am
raising a child and burying a son
(sermon reprise)
and i never had
the guts to hate you
i just wanted to be apart of something
that wanted me around
placate nausea, sending postcards
mimic family in the margins
im exhausted from feeling homesick
for something held together with brick facade
and you know
deep down ive never been to far from the truth
stagnant water there was nothing there to lose
and i will never learn to dredge the silt from your throat
and i will never form the words that you need the most
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