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Opposites in Growth

by Humanure + Michael Wasmund

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1.
2.
kept encrypted or untold, purposeful existence folds, is diluted and thinned out into its present state. left malnourished and weakened. we flourished, fathered by sins. sewn into devilish skins-- not growing out of 'em. life by the book of right-on, lived merely for the write-offs. i feel good for myself, but still fed from the trough. the strays fetch their water from the wishing well; if i had a shilling for every poor boy that drowned, i'd wish and wish until the water turned to rust.
3.
4.
my ribcage makes up a corset, a helmet fashioned from my caved-in skull. she loves the feel of her skin against mine, so she wears my hide like it's reversible. my frail digits adorn a neckpiece, hung on display like a precious stone. but jewels cannot compare to that shimmer in her eye when she gets what she wants. a friend once said, "i love the feeling of being totally surrounded by you." i am scattered, distributed piece by piece to the shelves around her room. i am the photographs so delicately adhered to the frame of her vanity mirror. she worked so hard to achieve this ambiance, but it's my blood, sweat, and tears.
5.
6.
i have no idea...
7.
8.
what's a guy to do, entangled in the web he's woven? like the prey of a spider, not so picky 'bout the meal it's chosen. if it shakes in it's grave, it's attractive. like a shark eats anything tasting metallic. like the drowned remains of titanic, or a wounded kid at the beach. either side sees i strive for the things just beyond my reach (let's go). set my own trap's bait. trip my own bait's trap. it's a messy catch, but someone's gotta collect.
9.
10.
brand new, already bored. scratched the surface, still in need of more. a million flavors, i just wanna taste. no satisfaction beyond the chase. old news, i want it back. my soul yearns to indulge in what it's had. that nostalgia tempts, exotic sway. but when i reach, it's too far away from what i want and what i need. entertain me. keep me company 'til my attention requires more. i need something to fill the holes. crevices spackled over, cracking open, overflowing. i need something to calm me down.
11.
12.
the stairs are lined up for my descent. the spears to my back will keep me straight. i'll relive every death i've caused 'til being alive was a mistake. bygones? too-far-gones. the script is flipped and then some. lensed, completely eclipsed, until i was just a glimpse of a glint off in the distance. the signs presented listlessly, dressed in dragon, stomping grounds, foundations groan in the same fashion. this city is built upon some shifted fault line, noticeably splitting and sinking in, and i'm sinking with it.

about

split released under the name STRAYBOLTS

give Michael Wasmund a listen:
michaelwasmund.bandcamp.com/album/michael-wasmund

credits

released November 1, 2013

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