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1. |
dereliction
04:01
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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
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2. |
dissection
05:32
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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—
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3. |
deconstruction
03:42
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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
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foxtails Connecticut
genre alchemy for queer outcasts
instagram: @foxtailsct
inquiries: fffoxtails@gmail.com
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