orchid

from empiricist. by nost.

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lyrics

i used to pick up houseplants on whims
overwatered in autumn and watched the stalks split
my father farmed for his family
no running water, just pigs and bees

he paid for my university
financial freedom to waste on weed
i spend a couple months travelling
a couple more because i worked to afford it
but barely

came back and lived on savings, veggies, and rice
earned someone's heart and then broke it twice

i thought of moving to serbia
but what good is english with an arts education
i thought of moving to ukraine
but what good are tourists during russian occupation

these rotten thoughts become the compost to grow in
my body blooms
but why the fuck should i show them

i think my mind is embellishing
all the things i could have been but ain't
and that's fine, i guess
i'll wake up cold, get dressed again
and wait

put my roots to the ground
and hope for a storm to knock me down
because if i decay, maybe new life will take my place
on a forest floor, as leaves shoot from my veins
an orchid grows from the shallow holes of my face
i've got love to give, and time only points one way

it's like i couldn't be happy
even if wishes were granted
i want to live life uprooted
want to live like i'm planted
i want my ivy to creep
from portland up into kyiv
i want another degree
i want to go back to sleep

i see you teach overseas
i see your hearts on your sleeves
and draw this stupid conclusion
that you're all better than me
so i write in first person
for my own selfish purpose
am i the branch that cast shade
am i the roots on the surface

am i the vines and the oak
am i the pause when you spoke
am i the salt in the air
am i the sea in the boat

does it ever get better
or is that asking too much

am i writing the wound
or am i writing the crutch

to all the ferns in the forest
to all the fish in the sea
to all the knots in the stomachs
of lovers too scared to leave

to all the sunlight surrounding you
to all the questions still hounding you
to all the burnouts in dish-pits
to all the drugs that are drowning you

this is a giving tree
tiny patch of eternity
fifty minutes of vanity
me forgiving humanity

credits

from empiricist., released February 12, 2019

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nost. Edmonton, Alberta

words by jacob ulickij

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