he’s sitting in his shadow match lit. iron sight shifting with his arrow da vinci with a trebuchet. resentment at a younger age don’t think i’ve ever fucking been the same stay still please, so i don’t have to ever aim. heartbeat on my cabernet, gospel on the interlude never into hurting you; but that’sContinue reading “crush”
Tag Archives: autobiography
heartbreaking shattering crushing blasphemous, bludgeoning, over saturated don’t be surprised if we can’t be separated science needs a new invention to mend hearts or a swab test for tears where a story is written by the chemicals in them and the chemicals in them are only ones that i can create with my signature onContinue reading “hellhound pt2”
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 cashContinue 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 onceContinue reading “i know what i need “
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”
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.”
Dreams and reverie boasts Roasted with pearly green chimerical gold God Delusion. Hallucinating a miracle told Where lightning strikes the conscious Lively minded. Constant. Smile by a goddess Where perfectness unfurled by Pangaea Curvy hips, sangria and rooftops Inebriated in a sea. with a jukebox Charismatic, dispelling drama. adorable gospel sings for the saga approachingContinue reading “Fireworks”
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 growsContinue reading “unfinished love gimmicky, smug grinning combustible bunch.”
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, theContinue 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 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.”