motions from plastic death by glass beach

paralyzed with possibility
gotta get me out of this mess
new york times best seller
rehearsed conversation

meet me at the tip of the iceberg
and cut me out of my clamshell
tallow taste on a forked tongue
not my problem

hell is other people
damned to abject heads
i’ll win the devil’s favor.
i’ll wean myself off dread.
reveal your underbelly,
i’ll hollow out your shell.
i spiral in dark patterns
i’m so sick of

going through the motions
i wanna be the new routine
i wanna kill the competition
and i wanna run like a machine
i wanna find another way out

select all images containing traffic lights.
select all images containing stop signs.
i am not a person
beyond my own success.
beneath my chitin jacket,
i wear no human flesh.
i only want to eat you,
i come with no pretense.
i spiral in dark patterns,
i’m so sick of

going through the motions
i wanna be the new routine
i wanna blend into the background
and i wanna run like a machine

i wanna find
i wanna find
i wanna find
i wanna find
i wanna find
i wanna find
i wanna find

protect me from what i want.

• Punk
• bedroom pop
• emo
• post-emo
• post-punk
• Seattle