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Every Window in Alcatraz Has a View of San Francisco (II)

from III by foxtails

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lyrics

now the wind can tear me
to shreds
and my bones turn to dust
why should i keep standing
if i don't even have a spine?
and my bones turn to--

well i suppose that this is how it
goes
honey you should know that i
don't let these things go
and to keep me here is to kill off
your air
and your lungs will be mine as
our tracheae entwine
thought you knew sometime ago
that this never was a joke
i tend to lack vision even amongst
the stars

why can't someone look in my
eyes
without tearing them apart?
slow regressions from now to
then
slow progressions from if to when

i am both terrified of everything i
am and everything i will never be

i'll stay up til sunlight screams for
me to go to fucking sleep
i guess you suit me well, you suit
me well, you suit me well

my condolences for never
forgetting your name
it's stitched in my brain so that i'll
always feel the pain

cascades of puke and blood
fell down the drain
wax and wane, wax and wane
along with past daydreams
of the sun's embrace wax and wane, wax and--

found naive to a certain extent
and i will never know why
i'm sick of clean skin and painless
touches
why can't i just get what i deserve
and to keep me here is to kill off
your air
and your lungs will be mine
as our tracheae entwine

i'd slit my throat with a smile on
my face if it
meant i could ever get out
(and to feel them in my flesh was
a cutting awareness i wish i never
had learned)
at 2 am i woke up
drenched in sweat
to feel the moths taking up the air
(if only i could breathe here, if
only i could leave here)
it must be nice
not to know
exactly
how it
feels
to
get
raped
from
the inside
out

and i might as well just cry
and i cried
on your chest

credits

from III, released March 2, 2017

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foxtails Connecticut

genre alchemy for queer outcasts

instagram: @foxtailsct
inquiries: fffoxtails@gmail.com

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