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I wish I could free my hands from the Weight of Materialism It's all sticky This concept of living is confusing Separating Order and Chaos One, Same, Membrane I reach for the radio tuning to the perfect Static Brown noise to free my life I left currency and clocks In a safe To protect myself from it Walk into the ocean Kate Chopin style Like Sylvia to the Oven But I'm more metaphorical than these literals I'm committing self genocide Of this false ocean I am a rebeling tide Trapped on an island Becomes the best time of my Mind
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May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 12:22 AM UTC
A Cured Land
I wish I could free my hands from the Weight of Materialism It's all sticky This concept of living is confusing Separating Order and Chaos One, Same, Membrane I reach for the radio tuning to the perfect Static Brown noise to free my life I left currency and clocks In a safe To protect myself from it Walk into the ocean Kate Chopin style Like Sylvia to the Oven But I'm more metaphorical than these literals I'm committing self genocide Of this false ocean I am a rebeling tide Trapped on an island Becomes the best time of my Mind
Mosaic
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May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 12:22 AM UTC
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