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.”

I didn’t want to believe it

Im sitting alone at the cosmic stump. Sipping my soul & I’m Vodka drunk Thinking of goals. I’ve not have done Fission control. visit me in my head Cataclysmic logarithms. -picture dreams that are dead Bickering silence, word by word I fell in your haiku only heard what you wanted when I tell I loveContinue reading “I didn’t want to believe it”

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”

%d bloggers like this: