1. |
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“The disaster... is what escapes the very possibility of experience—it is the limit…”
-Maurice Blanchot
my promises bust like glass
embedded in the carpet
im on my hands and knees
bleeding trying to pick up the shards
you still live with your parents
i wish there was a weaker word than love
i wish there was a stronger word than hate
take me deep out into the forest
act like everything's normal, its okay,
like a dog
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2. |
autoposition
03:24
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“It is not worth the bother of killing yourself, since you always kill yourself too late.”
– Emil Cioran
the lost wing of a circus nest
keep your eyes peeled, your face abreast,
cannon fodder for the walls that blister
blasting into horoscopes, cathedral's sister
the pigeons fly over
wings clipped, tears fall
can't get over myself
my ego overwhelms
tell me how I can stop it
freezing space-time
slit my jugular
with angular blades
delivered from the step beyond
on a night when all cats are grey
I am what's sweeter than honey
the land of milk is curdled and barren
sun projection of absolute mastery
the incessant madness of the day
I am what's stronger than a pack of lions
the hole I'll die in
the gouged eye from a cove of friends
midnight terrors, my cup runs over
highway patented, limestone flattened it
let them know that this is the end
I am the one who will sacrifice
Intensities of a sacrosanct vice
with a jawbone I will redeem my enemies
but what doesn't kill me leaves memories
and I know how I feel about losing
So close down the store
and shut all the windows
because death will follow God wherever I go
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3. |
with missing pieces
03:18
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“Of all our games, love's play is the only one which threatens to unsettle the soul...”
― Marguerite Yourcenar
libidinal thanksgiving set around the table
this isnt Euripides, Sophocles or Aesop's fable
this is real life blurred with unreality
the dreams i have with you are the dreams you have with me
we're living life thru a series of chances
our feminine figures rupturing absolute glances
situated awkwardly in uptight stances
when we all break out in rapturous dances
tell me what you think about our new home
roomy for another seed of destruction
the city built in a day wasn't Rome
but im falling through your eyes with your edible seduction
describe to me your perfect fantasy
and i will make it a truth
i have the perfect strategy
and i will make you smooth
you will eat what i give you
fit together like a jigsaw puzzle for elders
i know loving you is no error, you're giving me shelter
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4. |
death-pangs
04:30
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“In the middle as in the beginning of life, angels resemble themselves: how long it has been since I ceased to resemble myself!”
-Comte de Lautréamont
swallow mercury poured into glass
venus spun off its axis
the games we play are nothing but the same gray brains
bitter taste on my tongue, passed out smelling salts
i play to win, i play for keeps
i deglove your skin, i breathe on your cheeks
i dont know how much of this will hurt you
stay calm, breathe, no anxiety
attack lights flicker and bookcases fall over
manhole covers open and valves twist and turn
ice is in my eyes, you will never learn
so i reach into the vault of your memories
your skull was always so cushy and full of me
i look at the time we kissed each other, ferris wheel
just an implant, that never happened, that was never real
chewing bubble gum but i cant get the bubble up
throwing cola away in trashcans in styrofoam cups
gum underneath the bin, red, green, and blue
the last thing i ever think will not be of you
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5. |
slow movements
03:16
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"....my life and my death belong to me. Right now I am so close to one as to the other.” – Colette “Laure” Peignot
shifting moments
moving slowly
shuffle backward
cross my I's
destroy blue dyes
I don't need a new persona
I don't need anything
I come across me, myself
I saw you when I looked in the mirror
i could see it was me, that much clearer
put yourself in reverse
im walking so slowly
my shoulders are dragging
like im drugged with the heaviest psych meds
im in a state of interminable fatigue
and each day im waiting for the farmer to come
each day im waiting for the sun to glow
each day im waiting for a harvest
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6. |
my gentle body
05:26
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“Very early in my life it was too late.”
― Marguerite Duras
when i tell a joke and someone laughs too hard
its like i made them bleed and ruptured an organ
when i give a positive comment and someone says thank you
im going back to wishing i was never born, again, always born again
the wool always gets shorn away
it grows back but i think it should stay
my skin is always torn away
come again another day
my gentle body is not built to last
all about me is collapsing fast
when im in a store and i hear two people laugh
was it something that i said, did i do something wrong
should i go and consult the supermarket staff
i wish i didn't think this, i want to belong
the hair gets ripped away
it grows back but i think it should stay
my eyes always gouged and poked away
i will see again another day
please protect me
i need a savior
im in my body
my odd behavior
just want a cute boy
to annoy, to enjoy
post-salvation
my gentle body
is all elation
i can be happy
i have my proof
one day he's sorry
i'm too aloof
over the phone
my gentle body
is all alone
the heart gets severe burns
i dont know if it ever returns
my will left to live is forcefully evicted
cant help but feel like love's been misdepicted
my ugly body fell apart fast
my gentle body collapsed and smashed
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7. |
you must go on
03:13
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“The moment of crisis had come, and I must face it. My old fears, my diffidence, my shyness, my hopeless sense of inferiority, must be conquered now and thrust aside. If I failed now I should fail forever.”
― Daphne du Maurier
i'm headed south
with vomit in my mouth
dead thoughts in my head
leave me home instead
i just wanna be in bed
too many changes are happening
the house is against me i am gambling
the choice to decide was maddening
the nervous sweat and anxiety is blackening
please stop me now i am babbling
im headed south
with melted snow in my mouth
dead bodies in the ground
i wanna be shown around
this strange new town
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8. |
ephemera
05:43
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“I have absolutely no pleasure in the stimulants in which I sometimes so madly indulge. It has not been in the pursuit of pleasure that I have periled life and reputation and reason. It has been the desperate attempt to escape from torturing memories, from a sense of insupportable loneliness and a dread of some strange impending doom.”
-Edgar Allen Poe
stand still so i can take your picture
quit exaggerating your emotion
please smile erase your depression
i collect all the memories i've ever had
so that they're never forgotten
i look at them when i get sad
the images in my glass coffin
vacation time, special memories
by the beach, everything's new to me
a dolphin zoo and elephants too
i need this inscribed in virtual reality
you know i can't forget our first date
a special kiss that i'll never forget
back at my place even though we just met
solitude in drone eyes, a frenzied state
but what if my memories fade away?
like they do with old age?
i'll always have these images but
with no experiences to hang upon
they might as well be photos by Avedon
Death will claim me if dementia doesn't first
what's the use of all these memories?
mundane documentaries
I don't really care about my first kiss
I don't really care about my vacation pics
I want to remember the things that matter to me
but i'm deleting every picture in my directory
i've thrown away all the memories i've ever had
i never want to remember the good or the bad
i throw myself off and know that i'm dropping
i am the image in a glass coffin
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9. |
my border
05:39
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“We have in fact only two certainties in this world—that we are not everything and that we will die. To be conscious of not being everything, as one is of being mortal, is nothing. But if we are without a narcotic, an unbreathable void reveals itself.”
-Georges Bataille
swallowing grenades for matadors
red cloaks hiding open doors
remissive cancer say goodbye
junk food christmas alibi
shadow piano melodies
seed planting entelechy
you could be the limit that surrounds me
you can be my infinite boundary
paint the hedges blue
porcupines retreating
nothing like me and you
i am infinitely needing
pour me a cup of something strong
tell me about the panther in the corner
i think i've got it all wrong
on the end of the ledge is my disorder
you could be the limit that surrounds me
you can be my infinite boundary
but instead you're nothing
colonies of empty ants
but instead you're nothing
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