I am happiest when I create for others, so I am happiest when I am with another. I can not only create for them as a friend, but also create for them as a lover. My tongue is also a muscle, and it wants, tells me so, to be used. My love is a pinnacle heat, the greatest of myself. And space prevents me ( Read more... )

I miss writing. It left me with such joy ( Read more... )

Some nights alone, he thinks of her. And, some nights alone, she thinks of him. Some nights these thoughts occur at the same time, and they are connected without ever being aware of it.

We moved to the capital in another time ( Read more... )

I miss my old friends. I miss my new friends. I miss my medium friends. I miss speaking. I'd like to reminisce with them ( Read more... )

I live life as others stage plays. A monologue, my wormed bread; a tragedy, my spirit.

Today I watched a boy and a girl walk across an empty field. They wore backpacks and laughed with each other. I got an erection from this. I guess you could say I've got some serious wanderlust going on ( Read more... )

When you pretend, a small section of you opens up. A cornered room, a dusky hallway, unlocks, releasing a grain of the limitless. This outward game connects you with the whole of the universe. Each child playing a cowboy is themselves a planet, large and heavenly, to which the entirety of existence is a moon. It glows, a deific figure, itself a ( Read more... )

I left my heart in your heart. , a trinket I wrapped a present. All of my bravery kept held, adventure a ventricle, idiocy an atrium. And now I keep it stored in you, boxed a treasure. when I ask you here and when, it's for the serene in your eyes, the flush of blood for my body. A pulse of blood is lost on me but for you. What echoed rhythm ( Read more... )

Snowy died. I can't adapt to this. I'm still setting aside french fries for her.