I faced death. I went in with my arms swinging. But I heard my own breath and had to face that I'm still living. I'm still flesh. I hold on to awful feelings. I'm not dead... My chest still draws breath. I hold it. I'm buoyant. There's no end.
sweet blasphemy my giving tree
it hasn't rained in years
i bring to you this sacrificial offering of virgin ears
leave it to me i remain free from all the comforts of home
and where that is i'm pleased as piss to say
i'll never really know
