Amphetamines are absent but i'm still blinking.
That stuff is still pumping.
My pockets are experiencing nostalgia.
Its freaking me the fuck out.
Your record player is still spinning.

To change the subject, what happened to bare feet? What happened to the dishes in that sink?
I guess they moved to a different sink.

So the space beside me is feeling ( Read more... )

winter white in the center of summer
A metal bed and a steady green light,
a non reflective mirror held my vagueness eighteen floors above the rest of the world.
stubborn loneliness boxed comforting anonymity.
I left some salt there.

The phone is silent,
my hands are heavy,
it was good to see you.
And upon every return, I find,
a million things that I forgot to do.

I found a Jack of Spades and slipped it to my hip.
In every city it's hours of bodies close to bodies trying desperately to evade the inevitable.

there are lots of interesting people at the farmer's market.

sometimes i want to be your friend.
sometimes i think i can't.

sometimes i want a stella... right now, for instance.
sometimes i want a boy to laugh with.

and so it goes that I don't have a voice
A strange ambiguity crowds our moments
and you leave a warm buzzing exhaust
in my chest when together
we register,
and you make me vegan pizza

Boxes, again. This time to a place called Decatur ( Read more... )

fuck.

i tried so hard to catch up. I was even ahead of myself.

my limbs ache. i feel homeless.
where is your conscience?

off the radar.
there are new things on my fingers.
and new blisters on my feet.
But I been walkin', and I seen some new things, too.

The mothers were waiting around corners with ice water and kind words.

And well, now, here we are.

And here I am, with ringing ears and seven hundred miles between myself and the outcome.

its like trying to water the flowers from 700 miles away.