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lyrics

they sky's not bright
it's LED street lights
once a week I sit in this tiny miskept room and talk about my problems for an hour or so
but every other moment, they're relative.
the minute you stop naming, is the moment you're free
but I still say aloud when my heart is racing
-my heart is racing, my palms are sweaty, my head feels dizzy, I think I'm dying-
make one move and the whole thing's fucked
I'm so tiny compared to space around and I dissolve into the scenery
I had a dream that you hurt me, but you can't be held responsible,
or even held for that matter,
In a way after all that has happened I'm surprised I see comfort and familiarity and seek the constant of this room
I never understood long division, cell division or car collisions

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Flower Politics Denver, Colorado

sometimes I want to give up, but I’m not done writing yet.

“audio journal 1997” out Summer 2023

fka: kill the intellectuals

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