fire breather

I'm a fucking fire breather. Breathing fire. Eating dragons, for breakfast who wants some? None of you do I've held back for quite some time exerting no strength Ball of fire. Giving the sun spots ink blots and think thoughts disregard your discourse munching on mantras, making mistakes barely i learn from them wake up… Continue reading fire breather

prius

i recognize this abandonment pattern. neglect and avoid pushed to the side, suffocate & deprive overwrought. rush to get over the noise stiff arm tactical markup. 1 and death on the goal practically harmless. red zone ballad demarcation change is in constance, conscientious tailored departure mademoiselle, i've heard you tell me this often understandable. hatchet… Continue reading prius

disassociation

you passionately spoke, breathing in between ; about how we'd be able to practically look at each other without speaking and know what we mean. hold my hands. slight facial gesture, radiant beam. on the cusp of extraordinary meaning, emboldened by components we both constructed with our definition of love. uphold the only person i… Continue reading disassociation

tattoo flowers

it's become more of a habit interval time from interacting with humans irony overlaps boredom and passion kiss away sadness. verbally vie away the synapses blood stained flesh from a rose thorn on a flower. cry self preservation to keep presence remote listen in on private conversations. fly on the wall i, carry disdain like… Continue reading tattoo flowers

my mother used to say

hi. I'm okay. my name is .. (private exchange) oceanic delight. mariana trench - lets lie on the waves get lied to with promises as you wave your goodbyes the we'll soon see each others. the i cant wait to arrives gesticulating giant, wide-eyed naivety shine Juan Valdez roast - a vagabonds variant vibe cash… Continue reading my mother used to say

i know what i need 

I dont know what I want whether its surface dwelling alone at the swamp or an oak in a marsh, soul searching proverbial want we're more or less spawns of monsters nobody needs you were my star spangled banner and I was taking a knee subterranean breeze, vitamin pond, still smell your perfume every once… Continue reading i know what i need 

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 curie… Continue reading fötter day

unfinished love gimmicky, smug grinning combustible bunch.

puncturing flows of buttery colors, exposed in post and pre nuptial showmanship. Function control amusing instrumental. effusive, ode to hold this angel to a centerpiece basil, with cloves, of energy that exposed a masterful synergy a weeded rustled drone, that tumblerode a the quietest depiction of the color blue on a petal succulent. moss grows… Continue reading unfinished love gimmicky, smug grinning combustible bunch.

guillotine lust

particle physics; radiation cusps at every speck and a grain that didn’t mean infecting the inflections as your hypothetical claim bite the bullet. swallowing the pistol. it shoots harboring a hollow feeling. sipping miller to boot coil gripped Corona, drowning out social persona were evolving into moths, wallowing towards the murky gray skies. yeah, the… Continue reading guillotine lust

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 by… Continue reading Freshly dressed tourniquet