again i hear footsteps awaken the creaks in the floor again. who the fucks at the door? night stand machete laid neatly in drawer. revolver neath queen mattress. in case of a quarrel- but- there’s nothing. just repentance, contempt, intentions dissolved. gun powder, protein drinks, and penniless thoughts. could’ve sworn there was something. apparently not.Continue reading “again and again, again.”
Tag Archives: sonnet
soul, baby. soul (i wrote this almost prophetically, before a falling out that I wanted to prevent from happening)
it’s almost complete. distance between falling apart from whispering secrets, sequence you act non chalant like, a purist in person. told you to stop kissing my heart questioned why, choking back tears. au revoir so insincere. brassiere draped over post traumatical scar and it’s worthless. holding hands under jupiter mars deafening stare. kaleidoscopic. where weContinue reading “soul, baby. soul (i wrote this almost prophetically, before a falling out that I wanted to prevent from happening)”
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”
i feel so disconnected. pictures of stars are trillions of seconds old heliocentric. we spend our time wishing we could revisit a setting i could see it in decimals. each dot a pause in a sentence hold my hand, avalanche. bring me the check when you’re finished mezzanine at the theater, velvet seamstress, madam GutierrezContinue reading “AA4564”
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.”
I like fictional books. The main character is always me.
Feel the vectors into orbit, melting into fiscal porn Each waking moment. Exists to mourn the pensive rigor mortis And I hate myself so much every. single. morning. Its like clockwork. Lonesome. Staring in the mirror. See a monster. Bones drugged. Mainly see the errors. Home drunk. Sloppy. With a motor function failure Open palmContinue reading “I like fictional books. The main character is always me.”
We’re 5 minutes apart.
Cause in this world? Your worlds restricted. When curtains shine through blackness. We play and then we’re victim Every person out to get us. every person tries compassion? It’s more than mere prediction. There the serpent lies unchallenged But you whirl and try to damage. Cause you’re weak and your worlds afflicted. But to noContinue reading “We’re 5 minutes apart.”