1. |
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i had time to remember every feeling every shiver never leaving borne on the back of your affection gazing upon its movement across strange valleys you gave your language to me
gaze at what lives you’ve lived in dry air grimoire of endless unsettling scratching its arms with every step no ode to the warmth of blood its body was cold (in mania and in misery tandem with every sigh and my frailty my mental burns and my wayward days
the grand wanderer your great span and when your stride renewed you stopped following
A great being taking something away and in your absence the warmth came back don’t return)
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2. |
Lyra
07:40
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my voice changed felt my softer skin a myth of mine they who vanished and in time tripped down twigs, climbed new trees and thought of becoming nowhere skies run away together off to follow more spirit tongues pointing at constellations to show where it used to hurt gray alight without destination
(muscles bleeding into the gravel and clear eyes hundreds of miles away gazing at the hunters belt crimson shrieks billow through invisible cleanings of an empty shell two lights staring straight ahead and a waist laying where this thirty foot journey began)
(never to be pointed at and exclaimed that’ll be me up there some night after moving away and I’m never anywhere else and when the day comes conversations aren’t easy back as oneself its expected, I've been nowhere else)
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3. |
Soft, Vanishing
07:30
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(The worst moon rises understands the leaves, the old things and
Their rooms of birds It feels
Like a disgusting art when he waves goodbye and moves closer to the place where
Memories end
Fallen introductions
And being that small
Quietly humming in the dark away with flesh soft skin and
Bone
Daughter in the eyes of the vanished
One of the many,
Ever loving
Horrifying grips on ones day
The stare burdens beyond belief)
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4. |
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It awoke and with red hands its cry fell trees and with its morning walk began one last day twenty candles and the green ablaze dripping bitter onto crushed bones that Stifling ventral fire raging at his door blood on the back of my shirt; your wail strong and reaching, lamenting new maelstroms of bruises the first of many to come when your stride reaches my window
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5. |
Alone Year
10:26
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Touching holes into the earth with the great silence
And then the noise that the spirit shudders:
“Im more than what I notice in you
And you’re nothing to what you’re compared to
You’re only something with me and you’ll die in the coming breeze.”
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6. |
Labyrinth
06:26
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I didn’t leave tonight
The ghosts didn’t exist
The stars and dreams were in a mind
Thoughts held it together
But the evening was holding your hand
And I changed when you looked at me
So did my voice when I talked with you
but the evening was looking at me
And I pushed it to the back of my mind
Where the skies would not creep back
And I was here at last
Memory left
To be found someday
In terrifying future
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7. |
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exist/exit mask in the morning mirror in the rocks and the sea offerings to what was lost another parent’s son stride moving on the slowest it can walk give up and retreat to its one house
fences where It went and its fresh chords ringing out ill haunt someone new now layer of blowing wind no town beneath it for chasing stars
for wispy black hair a banshee type of sound ghosts language felt my skin it says its ok with my picture taken now im a new horror now: in the closet hangs my head and my arm hangs in your hall mother hiding her tears grendel after all injuries of time instead nettles spurning new fall great being after all
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8. |
Pine Sun Orange
05:24
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Fresh sour-sun air the pinion burnt in recent flames winter blue in pine sun orange marks still there of broken youth and of stained stone forever torn like your name and home replaced with natural beauty, over time obscuring crumpled legs and a shattered spine snow melting and rivers carry a breath away a not-yet dawn, a maybe day one night at a time flies by
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9. |
Soft Transition
09:10
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a goodnight in malice phrases basked in evergreen hate rising with the moon
demonic identity only something with me swaying life in the breeze everything stings like it should tell me new things like ill never be real like the ground below swaying with the knife in my favorite tree pine sun words and a loathing beyond compare written on every face starting with yours and after all I think its fine never seen someone so angry ground beneath feet to sleep on dead blue paint for new writings and one less person to tell
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