1. |
a wound i can't close
04:13
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|
i'm a bird on a twig in the morning light
dew drops sparkle
the trees shake
i am not alone
the nightmare lingers
but the scarf around my throat allows me comfort
it's not a place
but i still call it home
time is a wound i cannot close
the days flow out despite the bandages
creaking bones
brittle shell
they may be mine
but it still hurts
i avoided spring like the plague was coming
the rains encourage evil things to wake
but i am not afraid
the blood that soaks the forest fills my lungs
that it's not me is half relief and half shame
time is a wound i cannot close
the days flow out despite the bandages
creaking bones
brittle shell
they may be mine
but it still hurts
i'm fickle with a ticking heart
these hollow bones are ripe with shadows
from the valley i can see my gravestone
and it's comforting to know where i belong
time is a wound i cannot close
the days flow out despite the bandages
creaking bones
brittle shell
they may be mine
but it still hurts
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2. |
horizon
03:28
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i thought i'd forgotten
out in the trees
like a soft hand
like an empty nest
it had always been clear,
how the sunlight fell
how the mists lingered at the roots
the sound
oh i don't recall the sound
i thought i'd forgotten
now i know i've forgotten
like a lost cache
like a dropped feather
it had always been clear
the details
worms in an unexpected rain
the sound
oh fuck the sound
if i squint i can just make out the shape
of an island that is a different island
if i blink
a flat horizon and a lost place
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3. |
lost love
09:03
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|
ahead my breath smokes
behind my cubs follow
through the hills
across the snow
in the morning
in the peaceful morning
through the silence
cuts a bellow
is it him?
is it my lost love
come to take them away from me?
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4. |
||||
|
i am grateful for the wind the blows the summer out of me
i am grateful for the dry leaves that remind me of spring
i am grateful for the frost in the winter
i am grateful for the place that is not mine
isn't it nice,
the melting ice?
empty streets out in the morning
the undersides of stones fills me with the same compassion as
"are your hands still cold?"
i am grateful for the breath that keeps me afloat
i am grateful for the mind that helps me see
i am grateful for the blood in this body
i am grateful for the place that is not mine
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5. |
i hate this house
11:15
|
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|
a hot swirl of air turns the fruit to slime
beetles crawling from the sink
and i'm tired of the feelings i feel when i don't sleep
i hate this house
this is not my home
i'm a skeleton in a human's clothes
face against the glass
waiting for someone to pull me out but no
this is where i live
a thought emerges, weak and frail
wanders off into the dark
my mind drags itself so far from here
it may not return
i hate this house
this is not my home
i'm a skeleton in a human's clothes
face against the glass
waiting for someone to pull me out but no
this is where i live
no one is home when you knock on my door
i see you coming and i shrivel up
no one is ever home when this body needs comfort
i would not touch you with a ten foot pole
i hate this house
this is not my home
i'm a skeleton in a human's clothes
face against the glass
waiting for someone to pull me out but no
this is where i live
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6. |
looking for life
05:58
|
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|
a brushstroke in a stream
just the idea of people on a boat
lines in the water
hooks cast
looking for life
flicked wrist
moistened stone
ink woven into mountains
rocks crawling down a cliff
shadows of birds above a house
looking for life
words don't tell stories
you tell stories
pages don't have voices, but you sing
when there was nothing
you carved your memory
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7. |
or is it only me
03:31
|
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|
from here
from the top of this rock
i found the whole world stretching out
the skin of some huge animal bristling with brown fur
that such a place exists never occurred to me
i wonder where the end is
if there's even an end
i can't see nothing
nothing but the endless end
is there life out there?
do things breathe?
am i alone?
or is it only me?
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8. |
my door
12:08
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i have lashed my ropes
i have fettered my chains
i have locked my door
i have checked my phone
i have watched my shows
i have locked my door
i have seen you
i have talked to you
i have loved you
an empty house is filled with light
the hilltop's dressed in white
i can't remember where i live
i have walked every street
i have crossed every river
i have locked my door
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