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cookin' with grandma - who killed cookin' with grandma? lyrics
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who k!lled cookin’ with grandma?
blood. bathroom stall doors, origin stories, post cards
this is the passive becoming specter; the spectacle
watch how i dance, then ditch me after the show
innocence. the last four years of my life i’ve been alive
vital organs are only vital to keep oxygen flowing to your brain and extremities. in the most severe cases, you’ll order a beer at the yard & flagon, and never drink again
i skipped out on poetry shows
regina is a beacon of hope, and summersidе is the epilogue
4:30 in thе morning is just a normal time to fall asleep
i was happy once. but the reflections off the ocean seemed to remind me, of crawling into the bathtub, and trying to cool off my own hands
i loved you. just like i love myself
so walk through the forests, and ask yourself:
who will you bury? what will exist long after you leave national parks?
and when the internet goes down, power outages for days, candlelit dinners, who’s gonna throw the world biggest temper tantrum?
when pictures are taken, when the internet becomes your second home, who will you trust?
because all of those blogs are nothing but mirrors
if i build something with my life, what will i knock down during the process?
what makes me want to write?
you, were a piece of art but you were never inspiration
there are names i could list
but effort seems futile and childish
so here’s the last word:
live
do it for me
never bail on a show, never forget the pudding cups;
the broken drumsticks
because i was a river, flowing freely
and now i’ve reached the ocean
it’s time for me to stretch my wings
flight seems difficult, but the floor is becoming lava
and i don’t have many happy memories of my childhood
there’s a fresh start out there, for all of us
this hurts me, more than it hurts you
you told me over a text, and now i get it
so soar gently with the breeze, find your place in the mountain ranges, take a beginners pottery class, and if you ever find yourself with an internet connection, maybe remind yourself of why you burned all your calendars, why the sun, the moon, the stars, these are all yours
mine is not but crumbs, but i am a forager, and i’ve dealt with much worse
this is for you
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