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No Sorrow Video Series

by Born Gold

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I Want To Be Naked better late than forever, as some guy once said with a look on his face like his phone just went dead after another shitty date with my fear and self-hate i thought it might be better if we were just friends you feel so free before your car hits the water you feel so free before your love lives in the basement i want to be naked better late than forever, as some guy once said why bother with sleep, i’ll fall to pieces instead can’t recall my younger face, inhibitions stabbed to lace with my eyes on the prize and my back turned on death you feel so free before your surgeon makes small talk you feel so free before your love lives in the basement i want to be naked
Flowers 02:39
Flowers tomorrow morning, when we squint through coffee, sex and supplements your perfect legs across the bedframe: others can be so exhausting tomorrow dear, i might resist so pull me close with tiny fists let’s slow dance to your humming fridge one pop song without reference even as i watch you flicker, sweet mirage of my desire even now i barely see my feet between the spiders oh oh oh - we just wanna know hurt that isn’t ours hey hey hey - we just wanna be limbless like the flowers tomorrow morning, we can run along the panes of cracking ice if we’re spotted from above we’ll vanish before cops show up tomorrow we’ll try not to wonder what lies behind the curtain of want it’s only dust, rising in the sun bare, blind and gaunt even as i watch you flicker, sweet mirage of my desire i know no metaphor worth saving from the fire
Until You Heal born in a spray of swollen knees blind hope and measureless belief laying like the husks they are cast across the cracked tile floor. soon taught to learn but with no task beyond a thousand indispensable distractions. raised by silkworms and the mice interred in textbooks and advice. “you’re so cruel to yourself but don’t speak ill of the dead just do until you heal” scared lover wakes you from a dream sighs sounded like a stifled scream glass wishbone arms in moth-pocked sheets fall still until dawn intercedes on sleepless nights, you sense it too your punctuality will destroy you your love is not repairable and thinking is unbearable
The Song Condemns Itself it’s 3pm and i can’t breathe woke up with skin between my teeth i don’t know torn clothes jigsaw across the drawers like bones from times when i was yours i don’t know turn off all the lights to see my old halo oh, those rays were bright but now so far gone sure, my face might frighten you, it’s ok though that’s what my love is like without makeup on spilt cups roll into a toast to bedsores, shame, and bloody throats? i don’t know one more short day spent thrashing in heaven’s bedpan, will i swim? i don’t know i’m such a rare special exception cause my bald wound has useful lessons (ha) oh, i hardly think of you
Here We Are 03:16
Here We Are o i can’t drive and talk swerving through the rocks like shrapnel of some party that you won’t go to anymore. you’re not the type to pause for breath sin, time or yawning death though i suspect you love the suburbs for conquering all four your sunglasses on as tide touches sun pass me a grape my mind is changing shape where do i end do you start where you are? here we are where you end do i start? where do i end do you start where you are? here we are oh my friend here we are. your grin could roll the window up between bleak tales of your past has everyone you met hurt you wonder if i’ll be the next my skin is dry and i got my first true grey hair when i was twelve you’ve always had a sense of doom— but we should get sushi here soon i just want to be a word you repeat


no sorrow is a video and song series that ran from July 2014 to January 2015. watch all the no sorrow videos here: tinyurl.com/ostbcth



7/22/2014 --- I Want To Be Naked

8/22/2014 --- Flowers

10/22/2014 --- Until You Heal

11/22/2014 --- The Song Condemns Itself

1/22/2015 --- Here We Are


released January 22, 2015

written, performed and produced by cecil frena. mastered by real cardinal. artwork by leslie predy.


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