a letter to no one, or a letter to whoever i think i am, or was.

fulfillment is neat. it fills you up, inside, and out. your skin glows, you say hi more often, and sometimes the sun shines brighter than average. not, sometimes, but more so all the time. even on rainy days, you can see the sun. its hidden, but you know it’s there, and you smile and theContinue reading “a letter to no one, or a letter to whoever i think i am, or was.”

last time you said stop

sigh i don’t get it. they tell me to write happy things. the thing is you don’t feel the need to discuss your happiness on paper when you’re happy. you just embrace the moment and live it. i don’t want to talk about that. momentary silence. dusk lit bedroom apartment buzzing of cars from trafficContinue reading “last time you said stop”

figure me out.

it’s beginning to show it’s intertwining dividends between time invested with growth. my intention provoked. lying listless and broke revisiting moments that to me, seem explicitly warped yosemite vulture. my melatonins dried up some sore throat, sore back, amphetamine humdrum ever growing size of my blood pump escaping out of my thorax 500-pound dry-flesh, greenContinue reading “figure me out.”

wallflower here

the perks of being a wallflower, or disadvantage in case. mr observant, half perfectionist, getting a taste of his own medicinal value, describe me to myself in a vacuum. tell me how many times i scratch my chin, touch my ribcage, leave you feeling incomplete. when you feel me getting nervous around you, so iContinue reading “wallflower here”

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 “

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”

GUNS AND ROSES.

it’s so unimportant. the funneling of guns to my roses. slow danced with the most disconnected soul on this planet watching steps into rhythm. coalesce death into wisdom.  such a succulent prose. im nothing short of a serpent to color me hopeless, is to color me human.  rendered useless by the silhouette that wants to consumeContinue reading “GUNS AND ROSES.”