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by foxtails

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dereliction 04:01
had a taste, caught a glimpse, ran away, ran away for the sake of the tango between cowardice and fate what to do, what to say, how to behave crawling out from the ruins, for god’s sake it feels so foolishly short sighted apparitions taking over body and mind it feels so foolishly misguided fighting for control and losing either way vindicated through ruination mirrored remnants line the ground an unnerving frustration spirit now enveloped by the clouds running from sleep running from dreams can’t take the risk of being seen running from sleep running from dreams praying to god for something to break cus if it breaks down all the way, it can be built back up it’s been done one too many times, grieving the pieces lost gaps in between growing farther apart every time, i worry the mind has a knack for cruel trickery under all this pressure something inside has to give in, give in, give in fighting for morsels of mercy, mercy, mercy contending with eternal days, and the ache of the chains doomed to run around in circles drawing maps and to question any moment of lucid serenity contrived faith in weak foundations what else is there to hold onto? an illusion so delicate yet it’s all that remains
dissection 05:32
broken down, boxed up, piecemeal bite sized, agreeable, unrevealing poked and prodded, roars to seal up, put on display copious heartbreaks as keepsakes serving as testament to tolerance gorged on bones unpicked and hoping an intact stomach’s an accomplishment wearied and trialed in the standstill, whispers deafen as the quakes take over look right through and burn all the holes that you need to get in bite my tongue so hard it cuts clean right through and it tastes like the blood that kissed the earth that i long to leave in search of reprieve perused for scraps deficiency, inalienable lack going through motions, live through this to be pulled right back perused for scraps heart shoved in the mouth for the lesson of silence as bliss helpless pet rolls over and over again and again perused for scraps deficiency, inalienable lack going through motions, live through this to be pulled right back perused for scraps unheard and unseen, surreptitiously smoldering, left to rot sullied contemplation, just to take it all for granted sadistically forsaken hollowed out as demonstration, shaken subdued, reduced to whimpers rightfully diminished wrapped around a trigger-happy finger sickly sweet marionette a noxious and inculcated humility humiliating and undeniable futility taken down a peg, can’t get much lower than this helpless pet rolls over again kept in check, never dare to deviate from pained cries hushed, never dare to scream insides picked apart, excruciatingly pristine cultivated, eviscerated trivial, minuscule, imperceptible lacerated, turned inside out, decimated dehumanized for amusement enshrouded in panic and confusion to persevere through nightmarish reality while burying dreams it happens over and over and—
checked out, dead weight, windswept, nude root rot, limp, disintegrated behind flesh veils hide calamities, ceaseless sirens evanesce into drone, it’s somehow better this way defenseless against solitude and running out the clock sinking into somnolence, i’ve been betrayed evocation comes after me in anxious slumber terrors drip off the tongue, elusive, inconsequential paradoxical precautions decorations of disarray chime in clichés about burning out versus fading away awakening to an impending sense of doom (day after day, night after night) gardens grown on barren land are bound to die away (day after day, night after night) supine, inert, astray grip the clock by the hands, turn time back what i ponder most in my deliberations is if they know what they do when they do it to me birthed from a lonely womb dread and premonition woven into punished cells a rare spark of discordance i’ve lived too many lives to be patronized what’s there to lose? worth the try to die dignified reconciling and inconsolable laid to waste by attrition gifted life just to be robbed of the joy you will never fucking listen this face is half of what you hate compensate by delegating shame conditioned to sympathize with parasites what is real, what is right? a love laced with contempt flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood wistful and battered soul laid bare and yet you still find something else to take toss and turn night after night a deprivation that will never be rectified toss and turn night after night a deprivation that will never be rectified toss and turn night after night


the last two years have been extremely illuminating. i am tempted to say they have been the most difficult years of my life, but that simply isn't true. pretty much every year of my life has been difficult, in its own fucked up unique way.

i find that every year i live past the deadline i gave myself as a child gifts me a deeper understanding of myself and the world around me. this knowledge is extremely bittersweet. this project encapsulates only some of the various, seemingly endless stages of grief suffered while undergoing the process of growth.

this project was written about a year and a half ago, and only recently released due to perfectionist demons i've had to wrestle with while learning how to mix from scratch. i had absolutely no prior knowledge or experience in mixing or production before this extremely difficult and personal project, and although i wish i had started with something less torturous, i am glad i was able to make it out the other side. of course, i could not have made it here at all without the extensive kindness, help, and hard work from my incredible partner, friends, and siblings who mean the world to me and have kept me grounded long enough to even catch a glimpse of the other side.

the only constant in this life is change and as harrowing as that is, this fact serves as a comfort, to indulge in the overall bittersweet nature of life, the world and all its massive beauty and deficiencies.

here's to many more years of darkness and enlightenment.
-- blue


released February 18, 2024

100% of profits made first week of release will be donated to The Sylvia Rivera Law Project, who provide legal services for low-income TGNCI people and TGNCI people of color. for more information about their services, visit them at srlp.org.

recorded by Dawson Goodrich (he/they)
mixed by Blue Luno Solaz (they/them) and Prudence Delilah (she/they)
mastered by Prudence Delilah

a special thank you to pru for her patience, friendship, kindness, caretaking, and overall existence. she came all the way to CT from Philly to gift me with fresh ears, a proper monitoring system, home cooked meals, precious knowledge, grace, and open-hearted late night conversations that will forever be cherished.

foxtails is:
Blue Luno Solaz (they/them) - vocals, bass
June Benham (they/them) - additional vocals, guitar, synthesizers
Michael Larocca (they/them) - percussion
Jared Schmidt (they/them) - violin


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foxtails Connecticut

genre alchemy for queer outcasts

instagram: @foxtailsct
inquiries: fffoxtails@gmail.com

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