what if you could eat a fart out of the air?

on the highway i passed a rather large woman in a mumu on a giant flatbed of watermelons. she seemed to be awaiting the rest of her chariot.

fuck.

(this is what happens when i type, retype, and backspace a whole lot.)

it's nearing 1:30 again and again, i am awake and wanting to sleep but not having the drive to put myself in bed ( Read more... )

lucipher cheats on his wife and whites out the evidence.

to him, love is nothing but a weakness. that's fucked up, lucipher, to use someone's love for you to manipulate them; to make their fragile human shell crumble in your skeletal palm.

lucipher doesn't understand why his wife divorced him and didn't tell him.

my darling, my orchid theif
how you've twisted the petals, enlisted
the limelight around your pale neck, round and round
the curves of your spine.

i think tomorrow i am calling in dead.
your tattoo sucks. i hope you choke.

LAME.

there's a reason why cliches get repeated.
(because they prove to be true)

i pick my battles. i turn in my cards when i don't want to play anymore. but some people keep on fucking playing. and so, i put on a mask.

sometimes, in order to win (retreat to safety), one must CONVINCE the losing player that he/she has one.

you people...are fucked up.

every last one of you.

i don't think i want to be in your species anymore.

(please stop.)

(signal:
disorientation)

i should have kept your shotgun.

one who doesn't trust
cannot be trusted.

external contradictions in a human are a bad sign.
example: A man's name is Poet, but he doesn't write poetry.

standing in contemplation under ( Read more... )

the sun's been out ( Read more... )