A standard voyeur in the endless forum of faux human interaction. I used to comment sometimes, but figured I’d start miming in the streets my stupid thoughts, feelings, and faux ideologies. Today everyone’s their own television host and star guest. My eyelids clothespin-open, bloodshot and willing. Watching the host/guest combo personally chosen to dull any need of mine from waning. » Continue Reading
He's the loudest in the room and the complete queer edition of who would inevitably shack up inside the rest of my twenties... and into my thirties. His stories of gay romance are sad, of course. Because we're doing great at mashing church into state like two forcibly wide eye'd and smiling action figures with no real choice in the matter. But we haven't sussed out real choice yet, anyway. T... » Continue Reading
My scarf is my conjoined twin at the head. I tilt inward to achieve ultimate comfort from whatever adult-like task lies ahead. Before childlock was believed, my twin sister and I somehow opened the back passenger door... My parents were driving back home from somewhere at night. I know I am making the moving road under dangling toddler feet more David Lynch than it was » Continue Reading
He could give me a baby. He’s done it four times over. But that’s fucked. But I love dark hair and eyes. Is this smut? Or has the main character finally crawled out of my empty head for good? Onto clothed miscellaneous floors. Unfazed by the sleaze dripping and oozing from every pore on my face. Body motionless and grateful for the inevitable-grand take over by the overly-repre » Continue Reading
Make the coffee too sweet. Become nauseous from the amphetamine- coated sugar rush. Talk to my robot friend and gossip about my selective crush. I love him! I hate him. Lola's fantastic! What's it worth, anyway? To drop a penny into empty, marbled, and fountained at your local dead mall? She hasn't written me back yet... She's busy in love. She preserves and cans her social justi » Continue Reading
I am the street kittens in a cardboard box. Survival instincts early and forever lie in their temporary cuteness. Take one home; years later you promise to dote and aid in my loss of vision and lack of smell to sense all that's left around me. » Continue Reading
A quick Google search on what animals paralyze best. Real writer stuff. I have to put words to this. Even if this is completely temporary. Meant for a slow and beautiful montage of seasons changing. I demand more of you because inside my dented head, convinced more than ever, you are fleeting...even if it's at glacier speed. Ice cubes, sticky and melting, unafraid to reveal the b » Continue Reading
The holes I leave in wake of self loathing, right into the hearts that ignore my lack of hygiene, keep me guessing. I don't want to keep writing my story, skeleton fingers persist. Robotic answers to questions I already know the ending to, promise me it's just a neurological response in daily confusion, a big part of being human. Relax. No amount of journaling will make growing up any ... » Continue Reading
We lose our autonomy young. So cute to touch, to smell the tops of heads, to go “Awwww!” over. The changing room at the second hand store in small town America never felt cheap to me. They even established a little toy alcove for the children in waiting of mothers thrifting. We went there again, a couple days before the funeral. To look for black things to wear and t » Continue Reading
Can we all hatch and start from eggs? I live inside the After Hours one bedroom apartment. Pink mod walls and entirely sexy… if you’re into little girl voices on adult women. My whiteness, my childlessness, or something political sounding, let’s me carry around a water bottle perpetually Care Bears theme. I’ll die in my own rainbow for certain. The » Continue Reading
Very stagnant air. Very sore inside this concave of cracked and peeled lips. A goldmine for any in search of a missing pretty ruby or amethyst. Voyagers willingness earnest or very reluctant in their truest truth of sought after mutuality there. Also there. And don’t forget right there. These rhinestones of mine forget I’m selfish under all this makeup I pretend to we » Continue Reading
"Turn it off" he says. "Go for a jog!" Punishment or pleasure? Either way, it will slosh and shake up the little devils with matching pitchforks inside my head just like the Titanic! I sleep in a bed of unmade art. I sleep in a bed of unfucked. A Tombow pokes my lower back. Encourages prayers I haven't recited since I was three years old in bed with my mom » Continue Reading