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at night I close my eyes,
to dream that they could open;
to dream of cutting ties
which bind the arc of time.
at night I close my eyes,
to dream of all the damage;
to dream of all those fragments,
to see them realign.
sweat inside the walls,
I’ve been here before.
there are certain days
that all of these veins,
are aching to be opened,
are aching to be opened.
I want to cut through clouds
which block the moon.
I want to cut through clouds
which block the moon.
they keep it from me, keep it from me—
this world is all alone.
graduation day
I've been here before
and I hope that I
make it out alright
I want to cut through clouds
which block the moon.
I want to cut through.
sweat inside the walls,
I’ve been here before.
there are certain days
that all of these veins,
are aching to be opened,
are aching to be opened.
and I hope that I
make it out alright.
and I hope that I
make it out alright.
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sojourn
passage in,
ruthless landscape,
to burn across the desert
to journey through the waste
the language, of distance,
became hopeless to convey
and we are far from home now
and far from home we’ll stay
the furnace, of progress,
set our houses all aflame
and thus
from here we deal in lead.
they set our houses all aflame.
sojourn in, the heartless wasteland
sun bleached bones, a sea of white sand
the cobalt sky,
flawless overhead
sojourn in, the heartless wasteland
wait for dark, the light of lodestar
the Polaris,
glowing from its grave
set our houses all aflame
and we too, will find our graves,
so grass might grow when it rains.
go then there are other worlds,
other worlds than these.
and now we, have found our graves,
to sleep in death amidst the clay.
go then there are other worlds,
other worlds than these.
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monstro
eight years in
the belly of the whale,
a school of rays,
the swell of his wave—
the last time I
saw sunlight.
I carved my name
into his walls;
the bleeding
cavern trembled.
at the end, at the end
and I, I have learned to see,
to see in the dark,
senses, have been sharpened through
this lightless bastille,
his bones, forming a stockade
his jagged ribcage,
I know I cannot escape
so I plan to strike
his core, and to sacrifice
hope to take his life
a thrust with a broken oar
and I, I have learned to see,
to see in the dark,
senses, have been sharpened through
this lightless bastille,
his bones, forming a stockade
his jagged ribcage,
I know I cannot escape
so I plan to strike
at the end
at the end
I swam to find his heart
at the end
I swam to find his heart
the last time that i
saw sunlight i
carved my name
(carved my name into his bones)
at the end
i swam to find his heart
and i have
learned to see through dark
(to see through dark)
at the end
i swam to find his heart
(to find his heart)
the last time that i
saw sunlight i
carved my name
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