1. |
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"darling, i can't hold your cluster of names in my hand, they're burning through my skin like a bundle of rubies on fire."
she lifted her head as it laid from the granite bench and whispered without breath. "i will forget who you are."
i took her silver amulet and lay it 'cross my breast, letting the fire cut through and across my breath. as the embers caught the words came from from blue stained lips.
"my hands are cold, rest them across your nape and let your breath pass."
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2. |
heckdang
02:37
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i have eaten more salt then you have rice and you will still starve and i will still drown and as perfectly as my pinky fits in the crevasse of your grip i will surely watch you collapse like another star and as the cold encroaches we will be able to sustain nothing but our own entropic ends but thats not coming for a little while and ill do my best to not worry about you because thats tomorrow and tomorrows farther than either of us will ever know
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3. |
number seven is mine
03:22
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he must prepare the cross to fit across some stranger's chest the smell of rotten eggs and char seeping into every pore
his phone rang that day to send some damned soul away
his black robe contrasting to the pale skin of the resting man in bed he kneels to the floor to beg forgiveness for another praying to take and raise an abandoned man from hell
will god save an abandoned man convinced that god has abandoned him
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4. |
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5. |
satan's prophets
02:26
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i didnt meant to do that i just wanted to feel like i belonged
when you took my hand you led me somewhere new
you freed me and now i owe you
i owe you i owe you
cinnamon aftertaste in my mouth
when i left the ceremony it was you outside
oh you led me to somewhere new
you freed me and now i owe you
i owe you i owe you
i owe you i owe you
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6. |
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i closed my eyes but you only get farther away
i tried to hide my head under covers
i could only hope it wouldn't turn my remembrance
into someone else's honor
that i had committed in memory of solace
turned from your eyes
waking up in surviving memory
turned from your eyes
waking up in surviving memory
it was like some sort of sacrament
that was never really meant to be believed
if you could please cut the lights so that we can pretend the powers out and we'll make believe that the candles in our bottles is whats left thats keeping us alive
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Lefty Scissors North Carolina
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