1. |
lungless
03:44
|
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|
your body is always going to fail you
|
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2. |
collapsing, serpentine
03:48
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3. |
aching
02:06
|
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|
aching, i’ll turn myself inside out again
to show you where it hurts
but you still won’t see me
peaking through cracks in my skin
or completely open,
you still won’t see me
with flesh as mechanism
and body as a concept
you tear me apart
clawing your way in
wet, sticky, and hollowed
did you find what you were looking for?
i am the dirt under your nails
and the smell of salt in your memories
will i ever find the softness?
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4. |
venom
05:50
|
|
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|
biting into flesh like a rusty nail
opening the portal
as you fill me up i can taste your metallic possession
and your frigid touch
after you watched her penetrate me
i watched you call me a man
and then throw away my blood
like the trash that i am
reminding me of my place
is that you deep inside of me?
there are so many and it’s all just a fucking blur
always a bite and an ache
always freezing
always dripping
what is it that always gives me away?
my voice? my face?
i imagine you feeling my breasts
drinking from me
but all you is fill me up and ask me questions
never seeing me
i want to scream
i want you to see me cry
but all i can muster is a sincere thank you
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5. |
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|||
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one by one
over and over
once for each day that i’ve hidden myself away
every masked breath
every moment
every lying exhale
a throbbing and swelling reminder of the divine
|
||||
6. |
receding
03:35
|
|
||
|
a lifetime worth of dreams where my teeth are falling out
are finally coming true
cry me a water tower
haunted by the things that i’ve done
i have to believe that i deserve this
cry me a water tower
do you enjoy the smell of the inside of a hospital?
or a freshly cleaned hospital gown?
do you like the way it tastes when your teeth begin to fall out?
are your gums bleeding like mine?
cry me a water tower
use your teeth on me
like nothing matters
like my body isn’t a barrier
as if you don’t even perceive it
my teeth, crumbling in betrayal
my gums melting at the smell of you
my throat closing at the very thought of you
and my lungs, dead.
and what of the tasteful underboob of life?
i’m thinking about rot on a microscopic level
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7. |
flinching
09:25
|
|
||
|
when i pick and rip my nails, it brings me closer to my father
but it also makes me wither
trapped in a memory loop of abuse
an unwelcomed history lesson in shame
echoes of my hated and broken body
the taste of soap in my mouth
i wish they would stop appearing in my dreams
when I wrap myself up in the tongue of tomorrow
it is nearly impossible not to recognize that I am not worthy of it's warm and gentle embrace
but rather the confining dance of its sandpaper like skin
grating and crushing
slowly peeling away my layers
lapping up the blood and the serum and the tears with a snicker and a wink
because all that I am worthy of is a bath
cleansing me of my sins
cleansing me of my skins
cleansing me of myself
this is what dreams are made of
|
||||
farrah faucet Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
Radiantly vulnerable power electronics from everyone’s (least) favorite disabled queer ghosty goddess. Sweet but unknowable cautionary wraith. Wash your hands, don your finest chaotic gender, and come shake your meat bags around with mother.
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