31000 feet highI am towering over Iceland This time, it is covered in snow. The natives wear nets over their faces. They yield chariots of molten metal, and run them into my foot. Their heat is the only source of warmth for miles. Icepicks are taken to my toes. They don't seem to understand that if I fell, I would take all of them with me.31000 feet high
Reyk Jovik, everytime I visit you I grow less and less inclined to come back.
I am going insane.angels are flyin' 'round with styrofoam wings naked wisemen are lost and the cattle sing the babe's in the manger but he's wet and cold mary's much too young for love and joseph's much too oldI am going insane.
Typical Generic LoveYou? Your mouth speaks in generic tongues of lover’s breath and the sweet smell of his sex The sure method by which you breathe him in, and a thousand other uncertain simplicities. Can your vague mind note the musk he wears as he passes you by? The weight of its stain on light fabric? The way it dissipates across a closed chamber? Then tell me, how does your sense of scent to compare with my memories of last years storms?Typical Generic Love
You? You can hear whisperings dipped between your kisses,
but what does your love say? Three Little Words? One pet
Epilogue of a Break UpHow do you trace a scream? Such subtle lines that softly blur; a moment designated to sing by beauty or ugly: a lily lying in a field.Epilogue of a Break Up
Sometimes she wishes on the leftovers of last nights rain. Closer to starlight than stars with two weeks of tracing, screams singing:
"We can't talk about it now. We can't talk about it now."
Like It Is - 5Boy- Sometimes past dusk as you lie in the spot I allot you I think it’s too bad that men lack a third eye (for surely then you’d see the thing I keep cuddled and nursed within)Like It Is - 5
Though, perhaps it’s best that vixens can hide (wrapped around one crisp, denned plot) between the words I give you Naive should have its place and time! and, why not I to place the piece evolution gave me?
And Boy- While dawn grows your skins turned clammy I think we may have had enough that time should poison the thing I keep to strike you
Devious Journal Entry
Happy new year!
--
Your musky lips, cramping smoke into halos,
love to finger obscenities and slander. I am a bitch now.
Don’t touch her now, this thing of waste. She’s
Empty. She’s full of spite.
--
a rat became the unit of currency
Ta
--
- unleashed -
- my writing -
- my photos -
--
nothing
Ta
--
- unleashed -
- my writing -
- my photos -
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