"Believe in the me that believes in you"
Watching the scenery change at a comatose rate
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— 6 Kudos
Category: Writing and Poetry
She surprises me. I often feel the bottom of her heel dig mercilessly into my mind. Never a mutual grappling of how to mesh stark contrast differences and languages taught young. But somehow neither of us are very fluent in the other’s native tongue? I sometimes forget I lived almost a full year under her heart. I didn’t ask for it. But I don’t think she really did either? » Continue Reading
— 10 Kudos
Category: Writing and Poetry
I drink and eat without any remorse. I fuck myself like never before. It’s still not enough. Super glue becomes reform calloused. Making multimedia projects to pass my multi yearnings and desire. Spend more hours trying to Etch A Sketch precisely lips I can never touch. Make “Future” lists. Make daily happenings built upon the indie short inside my head that shows the many mundane m » Continue Reading
— 1 Comment— 9 Kudos
Category: Writing and Poetry
How does he know? How does he know when my insides are the softest? Sunlight casually poisoning my face and » Continue Reading
— 15 Kudos
Category: Writing and Poetry
a simple look. I feel it on me like a pair of jeans transformative even in botched dressing room » Continue Reading
— 4 Kudos
Category: Writing and Poetry
I wish I wrote and composed the song This Must Be the Place. I wish I could float outside myself and laugh at all this stupid shit. For a moment, for a second, I’d be away from here and away from all touch entirely. He kisses me in the shower. He kisses me inside my brain. It’s all so dumb I could scream… David Byrne be my dad! David Byrne be my boyfriend! If I wasn’t so se » Continue Reading
— 7 Kudos
Category: Writing and Poetry
I don’t really know what to say. I always know what to say. It’s a weird feeling; waking up like a confused child having to » Continue Reading
— 8 Kudos
Category: Writing and Poetry
I always thought cheating made more sense than actually taking risk and living it. Put the positive affirmations up on the bathroom wall… watch them wilt in steam without ever reading a single phrase. I love you more than you’ll ever allow inside your heart. You were my first girl my safe parts. The moment I showed signs of growing you broke down immediately. I cried for you almost every ... » Continue Reading
— 1 Comment— 11 Kudos
Category: Writing and Poetry
When you're the most authentic at the borrowed basement gathering. When his touch feels like your brother's violent temper tantrum because Daddy didn't go to the corner liquor store at all. A phone number assigned and reassigned to the multiple pockets of strangers. I want her to kiss me for 3 seconds just so I can admit to everyone she wanted to kiss me for a » Continue Reading
— 1 Comment— 11 Kudos
Category: Writing and Poetry
If killing yourself meant game over or a real restart; my bathtub runneth over and automatic weapon to the heart. I cry because it’s easy. I scream because no one is listening. And I’m fine with it because what is there to say? It’s all been sketched, erased, sketched, ballpoint penned into archives and archives of “good art”. A crumb the bakery divvies to each grubby and mildly infecte... » Continue Reading
— 7 Comments— 13 Kudos
Category: Art and Photography
My Miniature Progress January 27th, 2025 » Continue Reading
— 1 Comment— 4 Kudos
Category: Writing and Poetry
Just like cigarette smoke, blood rushing to your head is still romantic, right? Aimee Mann can play while doing a health sponsored activity, right? Do people really remember hugging their dads? Does “dad” lose all will to mean well when he’s still out terrorizing the townsfolk? Wait, that’s me again. He and I have lived about the same amount lived. Living, living, living, life. I miss t... » Continue Reading
— 8 Kudos
Category: Writing and Poetry
Scroll right through my own beginning. Fall face first into someone else's ending. Pretending can only take me so far. There will be another debate on what it means to live a life shortly. Each greedy hand stuck in an unmarked honey pot. I gave up long ago. Spectator turned specter. The bones in me tremble in premature fear. I want someone new with fresh eyes a » Continue Reading
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