fötter day

you can hear the… suburbia chime, zirconia vertebrae. pearly white spine glass thrown in stone houses, regular suburbia night whirring, rewind. chronicled childhood in olive drab paint monocle glass. wormwood and bottles of shawshank. dissolute solitude, wanderer who wallows in maze en route. delay for tomorrow. never promised today virgin diary. anne frank. marie curieContinue reading “fötter day”

AA4564

i feel  so disconnected. pictures of stars are trillions of seconds old heliocentric. we spend our time wishing we could revisit a setting i could see it in decimals. each dot a pause in a sentence hold my hand, avalanche. bring me the check when you’re finished mezzanine at the theater, velvet seamstress, madam GutierrezContinue reading “AA4564”

dreaming of colors

I salivate at the thought of atom lasers and waves of splattered rainbow the way they collaborate on a acid halo. technicolor schemes, that i’d envy more than me. oh, what it is to be, a color never dreamed. enactment of life, elapsed by the clockwork collapsing of time. facets of ‘why does it allContinue reading “dreaming of colors”

Protected: then and now: im sorry. the gray just isnt beautiful to me anymore.

There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.

July 19th, 1991.

all little boys need father figures not to be normal, or not to be sane. You wouldn’t turn on a lightswitch without seeing where all the conduits placed. You grow up with a fist full of hurt. A surge, like a missile, without hearing a ‘miss you’. But one thing is certain, nothing makes youContinue reading “July 19th, 1991.”

CONSONANT ART.

I don’t even care for breathing air, like A.) it’s clearly a mission. B.) Decided not to get angry today. It’s barely decision. Think life should be more grand than it is, but it isn’t. Can’t have regrets with being wrong, that’s why I love indecision. Sweater against chins, found myself looking for trouble. IContinue reading “CONSONANT ART.”

Explosives can be a growth experience

tired of decomposing, dried up, my dreams are dozing my body has peaked the opus, through godly retreat. I hope. trying to feel a pulse, pariah that feels opposed pinching my gripe, controlling. picture my mind in solace pitching and writhing, gritting and grinding my teeth to focus witch-doctors reveal a poem, my palms haveContinue reading “Explosives can be a growth experience”

CAMBRIDGE

fire place with tourettes. pop and crackles in depth drunkenly asking questions I wouldnt dare. I was shy recherché brunette, with curlicue braids in her head there’s a reason wine glasses are in the shape of a Y fork in the road, left or go right, slicing tension with knives I went left, it feltContinue reading “CAMBRIDGE”

Flown off course

“Vaudevillian. I’ve flown so off course that my radar doesn’t even beep it’s silent, instead it weeps for some recognizable aura of man to detect signature heat, thermal readings. nothing Become so abrupt in my comings that most of my time is spent twiddling my thumbs I’ve flown so off course, a meteorite that hadContinue reading “Flown off course”

Electricityyyyyyyyyyy

“incandescent. i’m pregnant with my words pregnant as in, ready to burst and give life where it’s needed, or not irreverent, moment of shining where bulbs of luminous lime invoke a poisonous vine. it’s similar in fashion when I couldn’t feel a feeling twice, it’s only one time that I felt it like, I can’tContinue reading “Electricityyyyyyyyyyy”

Freshly dressed tourniquet

Empyrean cosmos. This feeling I swallow; it’s real. It’s hollow, but there. I know it. It’s growing, a hole full of sorrow, it’s weird. Some sort of eery control. It’s sculpted out a grave in my heart, it’s six feet into my soul. Clay soldier statue that’s woven and wound up by fear. Wounded byContinue reading “Freshly dressed tourniquet”

IT’S 2 A.M AGAIN, wooohooo.

  its 2am i feel interconnected through any vine or snippet of life perennial inflorescence of any 6 seconds are chimed the success is a hive. hummingbird wings in slow motion hearing the crickets sing, so monotone yet obscurely composed feels like they’re talking to me, as i walk on the leaves that i crossContinue reading “IT’S 2 A.M AGAIN, wooohooo.”

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