Saturday, August 13, 2011

Natasha



i am a born and raised virginian. i love most of the bands that have come out of the 804 (Richmond). there is one band in particular that just never stops shocking me and taking my breath away.


this band is Pig Destroyer.


so i bought "Prowler In The Yard" and instantly fell in love with the ruthless, unrelenting, brain crushing grindcore sound coupled with J.R. Hayes' insanely untouchable story-telling abilities, bound to flesh, in the fast - brutal - slaughtering noise fuck that is the music of Pig Destroyer.

the latest release is an EP. one track. 35+ minutes of sickening slow, crazed death incarnate.



Natasha


been lonesome. two years since she disappeared. I'm at the park where she was
last seen:

a vast green clearing, wrapped up in maple trees spilling the morning rain from their leaves.

I used to walk here with a girl, seventeen at the time. mistress of seventeen smiles, sublime with flaming locks of red in autumn and burning locks of orange in the summertime.

we were solemn and awkward that last night together, she laid by my side staring into starless skies, black as fallen angel feathers. I stared into the forest, pretending not to see the hangmen she was hiding in her eyes of serpent green.

she said there was another. I refused to believe her. I'd thought we'd kiss till our tongues tied together. all my loving memories became scenes of frenzied slaughter. my hands became cruel talons as they moved to destroy her.

her neck broke, like a toy in a careless child's grip. my tears rained down into dead eyes and splashed upon her lifeless lips. I put her in the ground like a flower here. I am standing in that same spot today where my angel's empty shell last laid and as my tears began to well up once more I see a path into the tree line that I'd never seen before.

I follow it down into a ravine, find a hole in the earth framed in the roots of a birch tree. subtle echoes of her voice speaking words I've never heard, but the way she hissed her "s"'s, it just had to be her.

I smell honeysuckle then opium: two of her signature scents. I pull aside all the thistles and vines and, mesmerized, I make my descent. as I crawl further inside the light slowly dies and the dirt begins to feel like her skin. I tremble as I drag my fingers down the walls, caressing her sweet flesh again. I'm sliding down trying so hard not to fall,
slipping on the blood that's seeping from the walls, then suddenly I'm surrounded by a thousand of her eyes, bathing the tunnel in a strange green light.

the eyes show me pictures, like ghostly television screens, all her thrashing final struggles and her ravaged corpse. serene, the tunnel is closing behind me, pressing me further and further down. I'm being swallowed by her earth and consumed by her ground. the end is moving into sight, I gasp and I scream, as I see her lovely mouth five times the size of me. her lips curl into a grin around her crooked gnashing teeth. I'm pulverized and devoured in the jaws of a girl seventeen.



enjoy.


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