it's 7:08 and I smell like pancakes and weed and french fry grease.
No words. I have no tongue to speak them.
It will be a convenient winter, splitting up problems where they lay
and tossing ourselves into a blanket of white.
forever has come sooner than never had thought
and now tis time to pay for our crimes.
high noon we come to you: wrapped in edges of muslin from the curtains
prayers still on our lips, eyebrows drawn
whisper to us, reedeem us
I never thought to wonder where my will to speak had gone
until something rolled me into a corner and let me scream.
Lately I have only been composed of late nights. Porches scattered with people being and learning amidst gusts of wind We are vast. We bre...
Some combination of nicotine and cannabis and alchohol Pushes me through the sun to get to you. I drink my sorrows. Bass beneath the blind...
A response to Three Word Wednesday I walked along the left side of a dirt road, unsure. one patch seems ominous; I stick my hand into t...
splinters in my feet infected, pus infused from treading boards I cough, try to speak around the maggots squished between my teeth made ...
and if our love was fading water fading slaughter of spent nerves and all the hope was scraped from the inside of my chest would you tr...