by Kitsune

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[Verse 1]

I am dizzy from the thought
Of falling down the stairs;
They are carpeted in dust and
Broken-legged insects litter the floor.
A half-dead, grey-washed riverbed
Frozen in right-angled
Teeth that I've climbed every day to
My own half-dead, grey-washed, withered bed.
It looks homely now;
Warmer than cold showers,
Sleepwalks, secret opiated
Late-night powder thoughts that keep me alive.

[Verse 2]

I am dizzy from the thought
Of falling down the stairs.
Scissor-handed hiss of homeward
Vehicles clip the wings of butterflies;
They cannot escape my throat.
Surgeons hiding in the
Walls dressed liquid-white that digital
Sine-wave bleat set to stain my head.
They will cut it open.
They'll all ask that question
Of how many spiders I have
Swallowed in my sleep this time around.


I am not these bones.
I am not this skin.
I am not these hands.
I am not these eyes.


released July 7, 2015
Written by: B. Fitter/T. Van Deyk



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Kitsune Sydney, Australia

Kitsune is:
Bradley Fitter
Tess Van Deyk

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