Dear Journal
These butterflys in my stomach could bring me to my knees
Your kin and friends taking their bodies in and trading them for ends.
We took our bodies and we put them up
to fend against their bodies and the cycle never ends.
Taste it! Taste it!
What are we now?
Two eyes and eight/seven seams all working
to show how much we need to feel permission
to go forget our bodies and just taste it?
They're busy pissing family colors out.
Going out dinner with our mothers.
Coming back and fucking in our sons/daughters.
But they don't know what they're doing
because they don't know how to damage how we love.
So they damage what we love.
Q AND NOT U!! "Everybody Ruins" That was the song up there
Slow down.
It's in the skin of my knees.
End up dead in some cypress grove.
Tattoo the rind to my skin.
Tattoo the sound in my lungs.
Don't want to see what I've done no more.
Q AND NOT U " O'No"