1. |
Peach Creek is Purgatory
03:37
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Time’s adjusted to the window
we worship (light) the way it frames the day
ignoring real life like sickness
cause we’re fucked without it anyway
we kill the things we love
Fast moves of a shadow boxer
Shy room of a shadow boxer
no fists before or after (and no)
blood’s coming out
Fast moves of a shadow boxer
Shy room of a shadow boxer
no fists before or after (and no)
blood’s coming out
A simple practice amputation
of small essentials that make us want to leave
we fix routines around our broken parts
and then eliminate our cravings, for some fiction of truth
Fast moves of a shadow boxer
Shy room of a shadow boxer
no fists before or after (and no)
blood’s coming out
Fast moves of a shadow boxer
Shy room of a shadow boxer
no fists before or after (and no)
blood’s coming out
FUCK!
Fast moves of a shadow boxer
Shy room of a shadow boxer
no fists before or after (and no)
blood’s coming out
We cut our own teeth faster
We cut our own teeth faster
We cut our own throats faster
but no blood’s coming out.
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2. |
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Should my heart
burst into a firework
of red and blue
RUN FOR THE FUCKING HILLS
Let the flies
do a swing dance
all around my filthy head
KEEP ME EMBOSSED IN BLACK
the walls will be a freezer
#10 a cold grave
a carpeted coffin
BURY ME FACE DOWN AND TUCKED
where no one will find me
no one will find a beat
with severed fingers pocketed
IN MY OWN AFTERMATH
Crickets and violins
Sing me a serenade
As my face turns blue
BREATHING LESS FRANTIC THIS TIME
as red muscle
slips through my teeth
but it feels so very good
CLENCHED TO THE WRITHE OF THE SKIN
and now I see a comet
heading toward my face
to bury everything in sight
STILL IN THE NIKES I BOUGHT
where no one will find me
no one will find a beat
my severed fingers pocketed
Clenched throat for the win,
cinched choke for the loss,
i’m losing my grip
i’m riding this thing
Clenched throat for the win,
cinched choke for the loss,
i’m losing my grip
The comet is lost
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3. |
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That’s right!
Told you,
“Fuck out
of my house!”
I was a man at your age
So what
if my
life passed
me by?
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4. |
Trashcan vs Window
04:19
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I led you to water
I filled up your cup
I led you to water
I filled up your cup
I took you to nourish
Still filled your cup
Overflown on your fingers
That's enough
Fucking Pigs
You’ll drink the swill I give you
step out onto the midnight sidewalk
Knuckle under
rasping your name over the streetlight kingdom
Knuckle under
two syllables split this town in half
Knuckle under
Rubber stretching taught as a synapse
Knuckle under
severed down the middle
busted bones
abandoned blocks and boarded windows
doors locked tight,
empty sockets every corner
concrete courtroom
I led you to water
I wrote on your walls
BALTIMORE!!!
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5. |
Coda
04:41
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...and then you see me as I’m running away
a single orbit and a flurry of legs
of course you’re holding your breath
like a fish out of pasture for mere moments after it
again the moments gone and moving away
your broken movements gonna force you to stay
so then you’re part of the crowd
as now becomes distant, you’re the only one missing it
You only get in the way
You're just a mediocre distraction
So then we know it like its carved out of clay
lines connected to develop a face
our arms outstretched
and trace the shape with our fingers
eyes as open wounds
again the moments gone and moving away
your broken movements gonna force you to stay
so then you’re part of the crowd
as now becomes distant, you’re the only one missing it
You only get in the way
You're just a mediocre distraction
Thank you for waiting, sitting there patiently
the star attraction like a tidal wave
comes rushing in through every crevice
and opening to wash away the stain
An image of a replica
composed of preassemblage
caustic lost it
and I’m the only one losing sleep
An image of a replica
Composed of preassemblage
Want that? Really all that?
What the fuck does that even mean?
An image of a replica
Composed of preassemblage
Want that? Really all that?
What the fuck does that even mean?
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6. |
Dead Books
04:45
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Rusted spirals
in the spine of notebooks
houses dead skin
of my fingers
I can’t
read my words
my handwriting
anymore
Paper cuts bite me
like dobermans
as I tear out pages
where I was a superman
I can’t
read my words
my handwriting
anymore
I’ve had enough of these words,
its soma’s not working this time
I’ve had enough of these words,
its soma’s not working this time
I’ve had enough...
...of this Picture perfect
poetry that
permeates through blurry
teenage angst.
I can’t
read my words
my handwriting
anymore
Why can’t pages swell
with emptiness
with no reminders
of a better day.
I can’t
read my words
my handwriting
anymore
Anemic, leather bound.
Wedding bells on mute.
Planets that I made
are bursting.
I can’t
read my words
my handwriting
anymore
I’ve had enough of these words,
its soma’s not working this time
I’ve had enough of these words,
its soma’s not working
this time
I don’t want to hide
between blue lines
watching clocks spill ink
all over everything
I don’t want to hide
between blue lines
watching clocks spill ink
all over everything
everything
everything
everything
everything
Planets are bursting
as I float through other people’s stars.
Planets are bursting
as I float through other people’s stars.
Planets are bursting
as I float through other people’s stars.
Planets are bursting
with no one to pull me out from outer space.
Now I keep these matches
close to blank pages
because I don’t know if I have
anything left to say that matters…
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7. |
Antemeridian
03:58
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Baby is floating up stream
faced down in the water,
but I swear it’s only swimming,
learning the ropes—
the things we never taught it.
So look away
just let the cold soak kiss your ankles
lightly
just like your lips on my lips lately;
slightly
ajar, sucking all the warmth from my tongue,
(still) mighty
(and) screams for the child,
“You are going to be just fine on your own.”
Daylight is protection that it needs
to shield itself from the wolves
hiding in the woods,
but they have no teeth—
I swear they have no teeth
to tear our seed apart,
they’ll just use their gums
to massage the soft spots
lightly
just like your lips on my lips lately;
slightly
ajar, sucking all the warmth from my tongue,
(still) mighty
(and) screams for the child,
“You are going to be just fine on your own.”
You’re only scared
cuz you’re rewriting things
we never did.
In your head,
the world stopped spinning
a long, long time ago
But you lose your mind
over water barely touching
your ankles
So stop thinking,
and dance with me
again and again and
againagainagianiangaignaignaignagain
(Because) you...you said this would last forever.
you...you said this would last forever.
you...you said this would last forever.
You said this would last.
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8. |
Able-Bodied Husk
02:58
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Your hand slips from the beams load bearing,
unequal
and heaving shored up twigs, leaves, and dirt
Fuck off
your (fixed) point spinning the earth framed alone
Distance
Removed from needs and wants unattached
solid ground for a weekend
shifting roof for a day
fisher king never blinking
no flame for the clay
your foot slips from hillsides
Land erodes
toil
No fulcrum, counters your long dead fall
your shit
turns to soil your (fixed) point spinning the earth
Distance
Removed from needs and wants cold dead hands
solid ground for a weekend
shifting roof for a day
fisher king never blinking
no flame for the clay
Raised up!
Raised up!
Force fed!
Raised up!
Force fed!
Sacrificed!
Raised up!
Force fed!
Sacrifice!
Sprouting!
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9. |
A Kissing Prostitute
02:12
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Wrap lips around fractured glass
it’s better than therapy
Crust the air with dirty dollars
watch smoke turn into little birds
watch the walls strip like orange peels
swimming in your rum
watch no one bat an eye
You!
Are!
Gonna!
Die!
You!
Are!
Gonna!
Die!
Swap your blood with kerosene
pull cigarettes from your chest
blow smoke through jaundice teeth
coat the gums in a pretty yellow
Keep the matchbooks close to your skin
burn track marks off just like a scab
watch no one bat an eye
You!
Are!
Gonna!
Die!
You!
Are!
Gonna!
Die!
Sink your tongue in a prostitute
It’s so much better than eating food
Stick a needle through a burning tube
it’s so much better than our love for you
Don’t let curses drag you down
they bounce off you, stick to me like glue.
Sink your tongue in a prostitute
because I've got no fucking respect for you.
You are gonna die.
You are gonna die.
You are gonna die.
You are gonna die
with cocaine spewing from your nose like snowfall
got you writhing on the floor like an angel
transplant from suburbia with acid eaten hair
but, fuck it, you’re a rebel.
You might feel safe face down in an ocean
with boots lined across the back of your neck.
You don’t hear the sloshing in your lungs
so light it up
light it up
light it up,
mother
fucker.
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10. |
27
03:59
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You are gone
that is that
but what I am supposed to do
with these ashes on my hands?
They are glued like glitter
from coagulated
bloodstains on my fingertips
coated for good.
I
DON’T
NEED
THIS!
It had been so long since
my voice jumped to your ears
sowed, “I’m here if you need me”
words wilted and black.
“How was London? How was Paris?”
things I’ll never get to ask.
Even if they were pathological
lies on a computer screen.
I
DON’T
NEED
THIS!
Now you'll never
have to see
your mother cry.
Now you'll never have to see your mother cry.
Do you feel better
being a ghost
washing your sister’s carpet;
watching no stains come out of it?
If you had asked politely
I would have brought you bleaches and soaps,
but you are gone;
that is fucking that.
AND I...
I DON'T...
I DON'T NEED THIS SHIT!
If I slapped
the magazine
out of your hand
took away
the ice in my quiet
lied with you
on the floor
solidarity
staring at the ceiling
with the lights out
with warm bodies
burning out bullets...
no, it could have been me...
...it should have been me...
I’m sorry,
I'm sorry,
I'm sorry
it came to this.
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11. |
This Armageddon
03:16
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A meteor
the size of Venus
on its way
A small descendant
of some lost
forgotten age
Soaring quickly
to our orbit
Flying swiftly
to our path
Things are under way
and we’re no cosmonauts
Run for cover quickly children
Cover both your eyes and ears
Quiet now it'll soon be over
Before tomorrow's disappeared
The world’s a dumpster baby
compared to what it was
Tools made of bones and teeth,
and the currency is blood
The only people left
aren’t people
Only animals to fare
And we invited it
We asked the void
For all the shit it brought
Run for cover quickly children
Cover both your eyes and ears
Quiet now it'll soon be over
Before tomorrow's disappeared
This Armageddon
our own virus
the cure beneath our tongue
[TERMINATOR]
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12. |
Postmeridian
06:09
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I’m trying so hard to be here
to find warmth in your ring finger
the way a baby palms adults
for sanctuary.
It pins a smile on my face
like tacks holding a map
of places we said we would go.
I’m trying so hard to let my sweater
slip off my shoulders
and let your hands carve away
the frost from my back,
but steam rolls off like breath in cold
and I’m just turning your fingers blue.
Admit it: I am hurting you.
I’m trying so hard
to try so hard
to stop saying,
“I’m ok. I’m ok. I’m ok.
Stop asking me.”
But please stop staring daggers
into me. Where did the tenderness go?
You left me with wariness...all this weariness.
And I just want to claw out your eyes
Just want to claw out your eyes
Just want to claw out your fucking eyes
so that I can stop lying to them
Please take this time
To let me run the way
my mascara bleeds
when I look in the mirror
and see that you're not the same,
See that I'm not the same.
We are complete
Strangers.
So please take this time
to be mad at me.
It is ok
to be mad at me
because I haven’t been honest
for such a long fucking time,
but I swear to Christ
that I don’t hate you.
You’re the best anyone could ask for
and you gave me my favorite years of life.
You’re the best anyone could ask for
and I hope you make some lucky girl happy
someday.
I’m trying so hard
to help you burst out of your skin—
but not like a disease
turns flesh to blood—
more like a cocoon
that’s ready to fly away
from stagnation.
But I do not need you to stand
right next to me
now that we’re all out of light
and we can still hear the wolves.
We can still hear our voices
Are not the same
We are complete
strangers.
I am someone else
and you are someone else,
so let’s be someone else
away from each other.
Because when we’re somebody else
entirely, maybe we
can reconvene someday
and laugh about it then?
[You were my sunshine
my only sunshine
you made me happy
when skies were gray.
You’ll never know, dear,
how much I loved you
until you took
my sunshine away.]
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tudors Long Beach, California
P.O.C. fronted Noise Punk from the Los Angeles area. Always lower case the "t."
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