as intangible
as the shadow of smoke
Feel the determination crumble
and dissipate like a dried leaf, kicked about in the cold autumn breeze. Set a fire, and inhale the smoke to supplement a sense of self. Down a glass, to put you to bed, as the seasons change, so must your priorities, your sense of comfort, your sources of energy. Now put the pen down […]
When it hurts to breathe
it’s time to go to sleep.
My hair is still wet
from the showerI don’t remember takingafter a long day of movingand night of workingand smoking“it seems time is just passing me by”goes the early epithet
Dull amber curtain
dissolve assalt into waterlet the currentenvelope youand just tryto keep yourhead above water
“Free-Write: Formulate a theory as to why “The seasons” was so popular, given what we know about 18th century England.
This is hard for me to do, seeing as how I neglected—chose to neglect—reading this poem. Things I decided to do instead of reading “The Seasons”: Drive home, make peppered tofu with peppers and onions, eat said tofu, watch The Master of Disguise, have sex, sleep, go to work, drive my friend to work, do […]
this whole thing is upside down
ʎllɐǝɹ oupǝʇɔnɹʇsuoɔ sɐʍ ʞooqǝʇou sᴉɥʇdn ǝpᴉs ɹǝɥʇo ǝɥʇ plǝɥ ǝq oʇɹǝdɐd ƃuᴉʌɐs ʇsnɾ ɯ’Ispɹoʍ ƃuᴉʇsɐʍ puɐɹǝdɐd ƃuᴉʇsɐʍ ɹospɹoʍ ʎɯ ǝʌɐs oʇ ǝuolɐ ɹǝʌǝu ɯɐ I ʎɐʍ ǝɯɐs ǝɥʇǝuolɐ ǝq sʎɐʍlɐ llᴉʍ puɐ
Predispositions fade
as you slowly,deliberately, drain your glass.
but sometimes 2 very dif
thins are meant to betogether like ketchup and musterd/
If I can’t trust myself
can I trust you?can you trust me?it hurts to be humanit hurts to errI indulgeI drink sadness and despairI breathe smoke, instead of airmy eyes burn from lack of tearsmy heart beats fast and weakwhen I confront my fearsmy blood-stained fleshis like this ink-stained fleshas I try to bleed outmy terrors and rageI’ll make you […]
