to think of all the ways i've been told how to read a book. my mind is racing, you are only a balled fist. yr aching hand, my broken spine, the bags that hang beneath yr eyes are nothing to this certain brand of suit. i have no desire to become you. but have yr way until i come to. mechanical humanity. look down on us with scorn. how dare you all share the same nerve to be born? slaughter the poet inside and chastise all the mirth. our vague promise over all that which gives you worth. i have no desire to become you. but have yr way until i come to.
heartbroken bc it looks like the vinyl for this one isn't available anymore, I'm obsessed with The Thunder Answered Back and I'd absolutely lose it if I could play it analog Marielle Madden