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 “
Tag Archives: lyrical
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”
skylit lighthouse
we spent an hour alone watching our eyes meet our lips my revolvers extinct. extinguishing meandering thought cradled across indifference right into addiction deference to malice. rosebud digitalis reborn grin. while I think about things I haven’t before soaked in grimace and gin while I’m singing along philosophers physics. you had me at ‘gone’ underneathContinue reading “skylit lighthouse”
last 5 titles [updated 3.31.16]
i’ve scrapped my last five writings, with the opening sentences starting with, “its hell in this darkness” “dearly departed, please be here for my heart” the other three were as stark “i hate being alive” don’t seem to remember, one rubric: ‘demons inside“. life is overrated. diluted with wine my tears empower me. tailspin fusionContinue reading “last 5 titles [updated 3.31.16]”
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.”
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, 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”