my eyes and forehead are exposed to elements and i'd rather keep them secured beneath my hand for now because i'm full to brimming with a fair amount of ignomy. make me a roxanne; her lifestyle's still in, but her look went out with her red light. the puritanical, should have kept my panties on, should have said yeah i'm gonna regret this in the ( Read more... )

running into your past is like falling into a slowly undulating vat of lime jello *not completely unwelcome yet wholly disorienting none the less, and the desire to get stuck there is possibly overwhelming and stringently damning and definitly must be vanquished ( Read more... )

is it possible i have managed to alientate those closest to me by following that other expanse of dust and grime that they deigned not to tread? is it possible i have managed to cause them to loose all desire to share in my company, that they don't even fucking want to see me? is this depression the crippling kind that turns people away from you, ( Read more... )

my hands reek of bleach as disorienting as it is nauseating. some of us can only live in bubbles. not me though i prefer the company of dust bunnies and their more aggressive compatriots dust dragons that seem to inhabit more of this flat than i care to confess ( Read more... )

so once again pulled under against my will i might add by a type not unfamiliar who provides revolvers and ammunition and says not to run off like that. but is it from an invisible yen or just an urge for a sweet accoutrement in that obnoxious 'i need a schtick' sort of way. do i make you comfortable? and so once again lured into impersonating ( Read more... )

Door bells say goodbye to the last train ( Read more... )

part of me ate another part of me today. i don't remember which part it was.

delicious debaucher of the day off that brushes the last crumbs of the *re* member (from my hand). i went to no classes, abused 4 substances, 2 of which were legal, indulged vice and told virtue to take a flying leap off something tall onto something sharp. and i would bite off my tounge if i thought it would help get me to the shallow warm shelf ( Read more... )

now for me, i'd like to quote a thought, echo a voice in my own ears, placed there by plastic and chains of love: i don't know you well, but i'm gonna build my thoughts of you on hope. but a mild hope. a whimsical childlike 'i really hope tomorrow is sunny' 'i really hope he kisses as good as he smells' 'i really hope they have bunnies i can hold ( Read more... )

when all the light of your life is the one that lights your cigarette in the rain, when all your frustration bubbles up to your eyes and all the strength you have to hold it down amounts to nothing more than that which you can hold in your hand which is so infintesimally small and weak you cannot even make a fist that would hurt if you threw it in ( Read more... )