Work Text:
in the seemingly inhospitable elsewhere
you find some kind of freedom
fingers brushing against the trees
breath visible in the chilled air
all these things, proof of life
but is it truly freedom
you know the sword still hangs over your head
do you hope the trees will catch it when it falls
here they call you seeker
did you play the role by choice
or was the only other option sacrificial lamb
cling to what you know
grasp at anything that gives you meaning in this world
before you disappear
before you are forgotten
did you find what you were looking for
the trees are littered with pink strings
pink strings like notes on a calendar
marked up paper descended from marked up trees
the messages always the same
here is safe
here is dangerous
don’t die
don’t die
[i] don’t [want to] die.
child of the microphone, your life is a feedback loop
same old story
repeating
over and over
the weather always brings you back here
one way or another
every time you find your way home
the elsewhere calls you back
did you find what you were looking for
if not, try again
when the flooding starts to come for you
you learn to hold your breath when the immateria rises
in case you find yourself washed up on the shore again
same old story
try again
there’s always someone lost out there
do you see yourself in them
do you resent them when they get to leave
do you see ghosts behind your reflection at night
a trick of the light, or phantom signals
is it another way the elsewhere holds you tight
or is it your wounded heart only showing you what you want to see
which do you fear more
to be taken by fog
or by static
or is there a difference
in the end, you’re just holding your breath
waiting for something to happen to you
seeker, the elsewhere loves you too much
did you ever find what you were looking for