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Drug Queen

from The New Gospel by Haunt

/

lyrics

My matriarch in bloom. I found your petals pressed in a book. I burned between the ink. Held together with fabric and canvas. I’m not the only one burning the balance. I made a wreath out of cigarettes. Woven, sewn to the door, presenting regrets.

Feeling is foreign, pretender.

I will continue to disappoint you. Spitting image of a vertebrae. Couldn’t notice. Always dust on the pages. Fixated. I need to stay. Head at the bottom of a bucket, I’m breaking. Cuckolded. Vessel is left empty. As if it wasn’t already clear.

(to every friend I’ve ever had) I know the drugs are more important than me.

As is your freedom. Slave master slit his wrists so you wouldn’t have to keep him around. Liberate your love, leave it dead on the ground. I want out. Jagged surroundings. Jail cell. Bruising mentality. Loss architecture. False grand finale. A family heirloom, the underbelly.

“I’ve stopped caring about your journey to enlightenment or giving the fix. You were the decomposing. The missing day. The bones beneath my feet. And all the reasons that you couldn’t stay don’t mean a thing to me. Couldn’t care about what’s inside or that it doesn’t heal for the longest time. Self-inflicted, your swan psalm fading out. Mood molded for a human shield. Now there’s no point in keeping you.”

As summer unhinges. On vengeance binges. And if I’m honest, then I’m a bastard. Faith is forged. Talk is cheap. Oh, it must feel so good. I know it should.

Smoke me out. Lungs engulfed. But that’s the fucking price of love. Addictions run clean and you’ve no further use for me.

credits

from The New Gospel, released October 28, 2014

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Haunt Baltimore, Maryland

melancholy cult

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