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1​.​ø

by SPOIL GROUND

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1.
grieving 01:04
(these are like bookends of great trauma so you're kind of brought up by no one) (re-parent yourself) one mother cold (gut-wrenching anger) in a casket five minutes from here another too cold and still breathing as distant as she's ever been (just grieving, which is appropriate) and i'm tired of her (you didn't know half the time whether you were gonna live or die. who am i? who do i belong to? it's like an orphan. even orphans have more consistency, is what i'm getting.)
2.
hot steel 02:13
been watching water boil while hovering over the stovetop practicing some type of patience to understand the process of getting hot and hotter sleeping head to face separation and shared beds talk of young promiscuity this tightly-tangled web so long as everyone is good to each other
3.
greens 01:23
i am so glad i never ran away with you would have eaten anything i birthed anyway spit out anything i grew recalcitrant in your bitter nature so spiteful and with pursed lips i wish i could hurt you bite at your premature ears and scratch at your chest i didn't mean to but it got easy
4.
i see you in glowing blacktop lit pink i am producing your scent and i wander too - alone... eyes like stagnant clamshells batted slowly lightly like trying to gain the trust of a feral cat a lure disguised as calming but i am diminishing a lure disguised as calming as i diminish
5.
not doing very well and i know it to be far too true but i am trying to stop worrying and eating more than i need to climbing down out of bed without grunts and stretching my back some times a day ending the entirety of self-deprecation and minimal fulfillment having more things to talk about other than how fucked-up i am because i've been drinking all day or crawling for years maintaining some type of motivation to lunge towards spaces containing more than one pal in a bathroom keeping me stable
6.
sensitive to talk of death and mourning now empty homes away from the northern haven i continue to flee to as my only practical destination of choice open fields through a rolled-down window to see nature in real color all i think about is fucking in them. grabbing onto untamed grass in search of some type of romance to make-up for the string of lack i know mid-sections as they respond to stimuli - arousal, yellows and blues and not enough water lack of hunger wearing the same shirt for four days in a row figuring out your own scent longing for your own bed and a curly hair to twirl in tips of fingers push behind ears dirty water to stand in another body, wading and waiting

about

some type of catharsis

credits

released January 1, 2016

recordings/synthesizers/vocals/lyrics/album art by mar lopez

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SPOIL GROUND New York, New York

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