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Closed Casket Activities

Splinters From An Ever​-​Changing Face

by End

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  • Red & Metallic Gold Pinwheel with Black Splatter 12"
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1.
03:03
A burden to feel an impure hunger of heart. Convince my nerves of the familiar, crafting pathways for the plague to wander free. Covet not what can’t belong, purging the lost of aimless impulse. Remove the feet from broken necks, allowing souls to cease and never breathe again. Dragged through a forrest of blunt blades praying for my shell to catch on sharpened leaves. Alleviate the loss, carving circles in the branches we collect. Burn my world away, an atonement for incisions I have made. I am one with rotting flesh, gagging on the fumes disguised at christ-like winds leading me away from sky. Covet not what can’t belong.
2.
03:29
Pariah, drawn and quartered for blindfolded bystanders. Unworthy eyes will not be met by mine. Cauterizing wax-like wounds on wings of flies, I will grind my fingers into knives. Hung by a white flag, watching yourself as you spin in shards of glass sticking out of every limb. Remove your mask, no longer who you are or what you were… just gone. Beg for the breath of reconciliation and force my feet to stand on seas of snakes. Seduced by the fire burning just out of arms reach thawing limbs of frozen moths. Release my ink from your skin with leeches starved for sickness, and compare your cowardice. Inhale the dirt from mouths of worms. Wings of flies… shards of glass… seas of snakes… remove your mask. Your fucking end.
3.
03:28
4.
Deprived devotion, no longer ours to blame. Standing alone, bound to the floor by filth. Picking at the wings of fallen saints, revisiting the depth of hidden scars. Ignoring guidance of those I consider blind while voices echo through me without words. A coffin frozen shut buried just below the surface yet nowhere near the reach of resurrection. Unthawed remains clawing at false halos as an exit from the pain. Following a ghost that carries me on waves of gasoline through walls of stone, with matches clenched between my teeth. Nowhere near the reach of resurrection.
5.
Shield the ears of creation. Hands forever free of blood. I am the foundation on which dreams die… predicting an imminent pain through delusions of decay. There will be no rest, pestilence will spread on beds of nails reinforcing wounds. Hanging on every word, I’d rather hang myself. Shield the ears of creation, fault not yourself. Hands forever free of blood, fear for me now. “Are you there? You’re sick, you need to come home.”
6.
I am my fear held in trembling hands, convulsing in the shape of a cross burned into my skull. Embraced by packs of rabid wolves fixated on my neck, aimed at anguish I can’t see breeding in my brain. Through a storm of ash my preferred poison rains, collecting on pale skin like frost, clung to forked tongues until there’s nothing left. I am my fear held in trembling hands, contorting a crucifix-like spine burned into my skull. Temptation lingering above the skin like images of angels opening veins where there were wings. Sickness instilled as immaculate conception, though I’ve never been a virgin to despair. Hesitation wounds like works of art that decorate the earth in familiar shades of black, retracing scars until there’s nothing left. I am my fear held in trembling hands. I am no virgin to despair. Swallowing nails in place of pills, I am my fear held in trembling hands.
7.
Premonitions circling and suffocating me… digging into swollen limbs. Blinded by foresight forcing itself to come true, pulling strings of sentences out of my head. Captive to my curse. My prison endowed in the shadows of all that I’ve lost. Sheltering a corpse from sunlight burning black. Absolve me of my fate or stitch my eyelids shut. What’s controlling me now? A cancer disguised as a gift twisting memories to illusions yet to come. What’s controlling me now as I watch my world unfold choking back disgust? Captive to my curse. Absolve me of my fate or stitch my eyelids shut.
8.
03:14
Begging to be hurt, barbed wire rosaries as chains pressed against my throat. A void ever expanding under insincerity, avoiding evening arms and their embrace. Drawing a will to live from hollow promises stiff enough to coax the dead from fever dreams. Hide me from the heaven in your chest. Disguise myself as all I am to be, wrapped in impure images to keep me clean. Slicing through masks with fragile fragments collected at my feet but still unfit to serve as mirrors. Hiding from the heaven in your chest… hide me from the heaven in your chest. Walking in circles until one of us is dead. Disguise myself as all I aim to be, emotionless and rid of ammunition. Waters parting in the shape of both our names outlining lives in a hail of bullets raining from above.
9.
Forgive me for all I am not while my carcass swings by intersecting walls. Born above a breeding ground filled with disease. I will no longer carry your cross for I can hardly hold my own, pulling splinters from an ever-changing face. Kicking and screaming as I fall back to the earth by my own hands and not divine appendages. Birds of paradise swarming isolated skies, searching for signs of life to quench their thirst. I’m terrified of me. I am an apparition before I’m even gone. God-guided razors at my wrist, forgive me for all I am not.
10.
I’ve stained the sky in a blush of thin blood reminiscent of my insides. Pulling teeth, reflecting blinding light where the innocent reside. My cure could kill me… if only I could die. Scraping flesh from bleeding gums, exhausting every empty vein. Swallowing a bitter sleep soaking up a curse of cold. Lost in a flood that will force me into drowning. My cure could kill me… if only I could die.
11.
No god would want me now. No coward holier than thou. I raise my palms towards a caitiff cloud denying the beliefs of the devout. Removing stitches only inches at a time. Allow contagion to flow free from either side. Gnawing debris in hopes my jaw might realign. The sound of beating hearts will match the silence of night. Sands of sleep return to rust. Cover my cuts with concrete, opening arteries. Filthy hands pull shelter from beneath. Opening arteries across a desecrated grave. Embedding a poison in me to ensure I’m forever your slave. No god would want me now.

credits

released June 5, 2020

Vocals: Brendan Murphy
Guitar: Will Putney
Guitar: Gregory Thomas
Bass: Jay Pepito
Drums: Billy Rymer

Produced, Mixed & Mastered by Will Putney of Graphic Nature Audio
Artwork by Adam Burke

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