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Oh My God I'm So Fucked, I Swore on Life I'd Not Throw Up

by Orafist

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1.
its in a white desk chipped and scratched from my hands use, at the end of my room its not so sharp as, to warn you against picking it up but it still hurts enough its holding the writings, its filled with the pictures, and the wishes and the broken crayons i tried to burn when you were gone but they melted in my hands all the colors ran and the wax burned my arms while you were wading, through all the dust that i kept buried under my sheets did you see me? through your bloodshot eyes, and did i look anything like your allergies my legs never looked so much like a painting of the space under my bed with bars in between, breaking up the brightness, and blood filling in the rest so stop giving me these souvenirs, that you find at the railroad tracks cause i'll accept and keep them in my room when you refuse to have them back even though throwing knives and railroad spikes can’t attack on their own i invented a systems of locks and traps, to keep them in my drawers whenever i come home
2.
Brother 01:55
i like the nights where i cut up my hands i want to run but i can hardly stand when you took off your shirt you had freckles like mine makes me think we were cut from the same cloth at the same time theres a tree at the end of my street, i used to climb it with both hands and feet but that love i once felt is now foreign to me its locked away, imbued or trapped in old people and things why do i feel older then any earthly amount, yet i see no end? when time is moving at such a dead set pace its hard to hear it erasing you call me up and ask if I’m around theres nothing to do but i like the sound of your voice and your face gives me comfort looks like how this used to be home you white knuckle so hard here your grip will tire soon we stand around so uncomfortable i used to fix your broken body but now we both know but don’t wanna say, in strange way the fear we faced together made us brave and alone now all people understand how to lose a moment you’ve been chasing
3.
oh i wanna find your suicide machines and i wanna die so completely you should have known called me, injury prone i swallowed salt water before i drove home alone the ocean was cold, the air moved slow it flowed in between the gaps in my teeth in that last breath, i wrote what i had left with my nails, scratched in the sand i called it last rites i changed my face, changed my clothes my hair this place i burned down this town without making a sound you looked distressed i saw your forever sinking chest i turned away, i just thought you’d stay how did things end up this bad (when its so close to ending) try to appreciate what you had (and watch it fade away) into someone else, before you break yourself close up, and lock down shut in and drown out submit and decay rack your brain for ways that you could stay when you should really get the fuck away google maps from here to alaska i-90 till you hit nebraska directions back home are a little unclear find a way to fix what you’ve broken, find a way help whoever you left without a map who got last on the long walk back but i, always want to leave wherever i am, regardless of what it means i, i hate sitting still and the self that comes with what i ask not to feel and it goes google maps from here to alaska love yourself thats all that we ask you alright, but its easier said than done soften up when you think that its safe to keep swinging if you feel yourself fighting for your life or sleep, and dream all night please don’t ever stop cause i need you, a whole very lot and i, i will stick around keep my ear to the ground, for any worrying types of sounds
4.
Ridgeline 05:10
in a landscape five feet wide lit too well with neon lights i pictured your dizzy laugh filling up the room i tried to paint it in the next afternoon i spilled the water and the canvas picked my hands till they bled tore the hair out of my head so fingers don’t fail me now, cause i can’t seem to recount and you’re not coming back the way you were before words and pictures are coming up short and when i try to turn my eyes back in my head, thats all i can see my fingernails are cracking i read it was a sign of getting old and i can never get out of bed right I’m just like everyone that i know so words don’t fail me now, cause i am trying to tell you right out tiny little cracks in the picture are changing everything i told you about myself on a mountain five thousand feet high i sat above the tree line i looked back at those well formed folds that held, caressed me when i was cold but now the scars in the tree line are looking less sharp and i can hardly draw a picture of the pain in my legs or the aching in my chest and i never wrote down what they told me so memories are failing me now, i’m losing past parts of myself memories are failing me now and i will never figure out if all my days spent on repeat were real or just remembered dreams cause when i think back to the ridges in your spine, they’re covered in leaves my tiny broken fingernails are scratching trail blazes along your back so if and when i ever get out of bed i can find my way right back maps never did me no good, they offered poor description of the woods but the tiny soft hairs on your chest are blowing just like oak trees i can't get out i am somehow trapped beneath you somewhere on the climb down i got myself all tangled up in you and your achings

about

Written Fall 2015 - Spring 2016 in Worcester, Massachusetts

credits

released December 22, 2016

Orafist was:
Devon Bonadonna - Guitar, piano, keyboard, dulcimer, vocals
Nick Charney - Perfect Percussion, vocals
Becca Kranz - Vocals
Tori Sargent - Bass, vocals
Emma Sprague - Keyboard, vocals

Engineering, production, mixing, mastering, tinkering, perfecting, smoothing, overdubbing, addition, subtraction - Jon Elfers, with assistance from Devon Bonadonna

All songs written and performed by Orafist

Special thanks to Jacob Folsom-Fraster, Andrew Gorham, and Adam Wriggins for maintaining the very best spot

To Worcester, and the entire Fist Baby Nation: This one's for you. You will never be forgotten.

2015 - 2016

xoxo

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Orafist Worcester, Massachusetts

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