"There's nothing wrong with a ****–
just don't fall in love with one."

pallid makes her love fist open
steaming up from the hips
with milk and a little red hair;

jaw distending on rapid
convulsions of white chest

turning to suddenly drink
her own blood from
your

h i p s.

each new kissing makes two new fists of brutal night alive and hurrying
with the hustle bustle of dying brains wistfully drunk and full of nothing
but how many lurid drips of some dumb ******* **** or if she'll swallow
later tonight when you're alone and her hair makes a mess of the starlight
quickly between the **** ******* of night and you're trying to sleep
but outside it's a city
and the sun is almost.

"I feel like I've been waiting my whole life just to hear somebody say, 'I can't wait to see you tonight.'"

somewhere (
quietly)
there is a suicide,

the doors won't open,

and everywhere

it is raining.

to beingly is
to dyingly make of
white flesh

a most brutal mute song–

arms and hands behind
music of throat
–full of fingers–

pushed fingers into short throat,
deeply;

trying to
and openly
needs of, spit

where unsoftly comes
and fingers fit.

"Unfortunately, in reality, it doesn't really matter how you feel on the inside; it's what you project outwardly that has meaning. No one can look inside you. They cannot see or hear what you do not divulge. You are entirely in control of the way people perceive you.

Speaking and giving off of yourself is the most powerful mechanism you have in your hands. You can get the things you want and control your life simply by adjusting what's on the edifice.

You can be a ****** up wreck on the inside, but as long as you do not let this out, as long as it is not perceivable in your character, no one can know.  

In fact, to the contrary, you can, despite these feelings, build an image of confidence and power. This is what others come to know, and this becomes the shared reality."