#ohmessylife

Detach like an eyelash. Lick your finger and blow the candle. A drunk lag nags an anxious hollow, so alien I still can't see a Where. Aware. And could you even imagine how hard it was for me to look at you? And could you so much as dream how much I need you for a second? Set, I second guess. And if I'm settling, then in the meantime I can give you a shell to throw around (hell, even my best impression of intimacy), but please don't leave me (buried). My cliff face. My hands fell trees. And quarry rocks for feet. And could you even imagine how hard it was just to look your way anyway? Any way. 

[These lyrics, from around the same time, strike a similar dark tone. They could easily be about someone and something else.]

Like a lacquered limb; I’m noticing a pattern on my skin. Some gloss shellac. Dead, it bled its way into my innards. An alcohol-dissolved film from the cutting room floor, filled with restless naked scenes, and rosy ideologies fed to me. And what I want to know is: Will I ever know? Will I ever break this layer of mistake, and see a purer place, to placate me? A spastic kick. An elastic band, snapping back the nervous, shuddering dance. The sound of glass breaking, over the last time my volatile self decants. And do you have a light, new friend? I’m burning the bridge between us here tonight. I like the smell of flaming wood and rope. Sully hope with smoke. And what I want to know is: Will I ever know? Will I ever break this layer of mistake? Will I ever go somewhere and stay still? And not jerk to kill. And tear apart the clouds. Spit into the rain. Fold up the sky. Smash apart the plains. Will I ever go home again? Vanilla varnish. Vanish.