1. |
Waiting for the Crash
03:37
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there is nothing more awful than the knowledge that you can and will hurt people, especially the ones closest to you. how much easier to pray for the meteor, or the quake, or the wave. at my worst, i am waiting for the crash so that there’s nothing to explain. to everything you made: wave goodbye.
the hospital’s never going to call, it was you all along.
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2. |
The Orchard
02:04
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fruit rots on vines while you stare at your feet and wonder what next to plant, ever tree drained, every leaf quivering. sacks of young going into the river, everything out of control but you need a living mirror to look into.
i weep for tomorrow.
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3. |
Childlike
04:41
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there is a tremor in any honest voice, but we lionize children for their insensitivity. who ever smiled for the atlas? when does fiction get its due? what about everything bigger than truth? someday you’ll see it too. if you ever thought you were protecting yourself, if you thought you found a page to hide beneath, apologies. it’ll be fine or it won’t.
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4. |
Nausea
09:50
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is there anything more to life than just trying to find what little joy in it you can? do you even deserve comfort? or does comfort just make you sick, like so much sugar. you’ll get nothing and think you deserve it, fight and fight to cry at the outstretched hands of the angels in your life. suffer through it all to find a friend and then recoil.
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5. |
Confronting Imagism
02:39
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whose job is it to talk? who’s got anything new to say? do you, like me, ever get lost, even for a second? what’s so wrong with talking about the weather? back into your chrysalis and who could blame you. to think of the flowers, the insects - if you find a moment’s solace in a world like this, take it. tomorrow, who knows.
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6. |
Worn Away
06:34
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what’s left when you’re wearing away? which parts of you are the ones that are really essential? not your friends, not your job, where you’re from, where you live, your heart, body, brain - all are incidental. how little you owe to anything but circumstance, but here you are, holding on for whatever. tomorrow, next year, ten years -
whatever happens, i hope you’re last to go.
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