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Index of First Lines
01:46
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Solitude is a derelict house, with too many rooms and so little light. Live though this
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"March Hares" I scarred the world before I let it lay a finger on me. Perception is a thrown out key, shelter is a thousand miles away - "You don't know who you fucking are" - wrecked nights, so exhausted. I inhale to make sure my lungs still work, shatter the window. I breathe to check my vitals, collapse the door (there's no hope) - don't let me go.
"The devil, the deceiver" Formulate endless disconnect, this night was made to epitomise an insecure clarity - incomplete conjecture - we regress, we regress in convulsive movements. They'll cut off his tucking head, just so he can't speak.
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Stolen trees
01:52
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You take and you take and you take but you have nothing to give. Your bones in the ground are the only sign you've ever lived.
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October Foxes
02:39
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(Truth) I could douse you with it but you still couldn't see. Run to freedom or rather endlessly run from the problem. We can only be left behind for so long - we're tireless but its nearly over, barely footsteps - one last time we commit to the tenure. Burning down the house, the abrasion is cathartic, the wound is to engrave - no trace is left - even the ashes too "because you asked me too" - isn't it time you let go?
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For This World Is Hollow And These Hands Have Touched The Sky Southampton, UK
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