1. |
Tongue Biter
03:52
|
|||
I'm spitting out my mantra,
trembling. The fear is spinning
in my guts, it's turning something
in me. Now I'm pulling punches. God
speaks and it shatters my collarbone.
That wasn't too kind. He said "quit
your whining". Crowds of hostile
people yell. Hey, spill your guts out,
now file yourself down. You can
phase me in and out. Focus your
mouth on nicer things I could say to
you. I'm mixing timelines. Oh my god,
I'm cracking up.
|
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2. |
Set the Bone
04:02
|
|||
Jump off. Swim
back again. Grab
your life vest.
The water's cold.
My teeth ache
in the ice bath.
You said
it's not my fault.
I'm getting stuck there.
It's way too heavy for both
of us. But you've got to know
if you want to heal you set the bone.
Understand peace
comes and goes
when you call me.
I want to help,
but I built up
your ramparts
along with you.
You need time,
and I think that's fine,
but there's something you're not telling me.
You screamed for help,
but I wasn't listening.
There's something you're not telling me.
You're caged and tied. How could I?
There's something you're not telling me.
|
||||
3. |
Mouthwash
03:44
|
|||
Measure out the mouthwash cap
and slug it down, spit glands blasting.
Feet stick to the tile floor. Soap's
In the back. Wait for more.
Millimeters spacing fingers between
mirrored glass. Press too hard and crack.
At the grocery store fielding
questions from creeps for a second
more. Swap that sugar before we go.
I am walking up wooden steps
to a platform above the park.
Brought a chisel and marker
to shake things up. Shaking
stuff up will only lay
it out clearer now. I'm afraid
I've let you down. Let me
down easy. Would you take
me down with you?
|
||||
4. |
Epoxy
03:14
|
|||
Something's weird in Fishtown-
a five-minute epoxy put down.
Stepping outside, smoking beside
a dumpster fire tribe of rag dolls.
I picked you up at the park drowning
your mother's sick dog. You said
you'd tried but couldn't decide
to do it. Left it to a coin toss. You're not changing. I'm not changing.
Stuck in my room,
not scared of you,
but I'll sleep under
the covers though
I'm sweating through
my t-shirt.
|
||||
5. |
Still
03:48
|
|||
Vi said last weekend,
"you owe me for the
cigarettes you bummed".
Damp sheets and wet
hair hide from me
the blinds that rattle.
Don't go. I'm nervous.
Leaving notes outside.
I'll try to hide a diphenhydramine
sigh. I will try the best I can.
|
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