"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
It's not what you think...he scrawls inside a notebook I've been keeping or hoarding for that one-day-apocalyptic-ending. Where a notebook or diary would come in handy. Documenting hard trial and tribulation is important after all. It makes you forget about your starving for more and more and more. I want to wipe away the single tear from his eye even still. » Continue Reading
The foot of my sandal tries to skip over every crack in childish penance. Nature that survives despite urban reconstruction of her natural beauty always » Continue Reading
One black, one white, one soft. What does it fucking mean to have no time for anything? It's sort of like when I was younger... Make them kiss, make them social blunder and curse. They're just plastic. The shoes are most enjoyable to put in your mouth and chew on. Independence and choice are not things typically branded on my ass » Continue Reading
Accelerates the playback speed of footage partly damaged by rain water and consequential mold. I'm breaking him down like carbon. I'm stepping barefoot on his soul. I wait for no one but I still feel deep inside me someone, anyone is coming. It's why I can't kiss gently. The fucking urgency of maybe being left untouched for eternity... or twenty whole minutes. » Continue Reading
I can drink gallons coffee, I'm pregnant somehow and the fetus is predetermined to cure all cancers and environmental set backs accumulated by the earth's youngest living residents. I'm entirely independent, a career lady with a humble background which does not allow for boss bitch to consume her entire identity. Because I make art still after all. Little junk journals, inside are my poetry woes o... » Continue Reading
Initial introductions claim "middle child energy" Insisting to all of them I still need a mother and a fresh made dinner when I return home from travels of indecency. If my father was not unalive he would not find me cute as he did on VHS tape. Deadpan faces I made into the camera; clueless to what's to come. A man with headgear filming you feels so quaint now. I'm tired. » Continue Reading
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
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