you wear two eyepatches instead of a blindfold
i look ridiculous
you invite me inside and step on my foot
i buy you new shoes
nuance is dead
i am tired of pretending to recognize subtlety
you should leave me to my hobbies
of dancing around topics i care about,
and playing ping pong with a table made out of people
i request we normalize stupidity like we do kindness and terror
laughing through time as if it were linear
i request a bed of nails for the back support
may i sink peacefully into the wood below
Dec 17, 2020
Dec 17, 2020 at 1:27 AM UTC
Ahem! Let's try this part of the infinite abyss, shall we? Here we go, follow my lead!
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Apr 1, 2019
Apr 1, 2019 at 10:56 AM UTC
i sleep in crumbs,
my bed is a soft dirt floor.
i pretend to be dead when i hear a knock on the door.
light hurts my eyes, but i refuse to wear sunglasses
because they bring up the oh so ~painful~ memory of
that time at fourteen when i was too awkward and too quiet and too stuttery when buying a pair. like an alien afraid of blowing their cover.
i absorb water from microwaved meals.
my mind says lazy, my doctor says clinical depression,
but my heart is the one who knows the truth.
...
wait- what? it is laziness? ... oh.
oh. well. i suppose i can't argue with the heart.
Apr 1, 2019
Apr 1, 2019 at 10:47 AM UTC
if I popped a balloon for every time I felt
black sludge in place of where serotonin should be,
I'll have ruined my own birthday party.
...oh, where are the guests?
did I cancel on them or did they cancel on me?
oh well. I still have my cake.
my black, sludge cake.
Apr 1, 2019
Apr 1, 2019 at 9:57 AM UTC
my heart hosts a shy tornado and I cannot tell
whether I am choking or flying.
Apr 1, 2019
Apr 1, 2019 at 9:47 AM UTC
We've been together for four years.
After a lovely vacation on the beautiful island of Maui, Hawaii, I present to her a small, felt box, small enough to fit in my hand.
I open it.
A hamster the size of a thumb lays there, gasping for air as the oxygen comes rushing back to the tiny creature. His little lungs were straining with effort.
She gasped at the sight.
One would think that my decision to keep a hamster in an airtight box for no other reason than to entertain her would be an alarm bell of sorts.
It wasn't. Not to her.
She called me honey and named it powdered sugar, right before it scampered away, searching for freedom anywhere on this big sandy place, only to drown when a crashing wave swallowed it whole, mercilessly washing away its tiny footprints.
A better name for the hamster would be...
Our relationship?
Anyway. She tends to only call me monster, now.
If only she had heard the alarm instead of the wedding.
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 2:50 AM UTC
Looking down the corridor I see a
door that's being held open for a
man who wears two eye patches, a
frown seen somehow in the dark
outline of his silhouette-
I don't get how he's doing that, what? huh?
Tearing through the crowd of men looking down
I see a dent in the ground and I
narrowly step to avoid the
hollow tile, my eyes widen
I realize that he's gone-
Why was this man walking blind so strangely?
Then I see, everyone has left this place
I pace looking for a space to see
just how everyone has left me, I
can't fathom what magic, where,
where does this corridor lead?
The door reads: "To my friends I left behind."
How asinine.
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 2:14 AM UTC
I might secretly be a snake
it feels as if I'm wearing my own skin as a mask
it is no longer my own
and no one wants to buy a used skin...
I wish a snake would tell me how to shed it.
but if I do, will I still be a person? will I still be the same?
I...
I suppose i'll... keep wearing the full body mask, and try to remember the mannerisms of me, so no one gets suspicious.
it's working so far.
but I think that's because the humans around me aren't looking for the right things, if at all...
I'd like to meet other snakes.
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 1:56 AM UTC
if I peel back the skin on your face,
will I see a television screen
tuned to a channel that recently went down?
the tone of colorful bars and absent cables fills your head.
does my voice blend in with the noise, love?
i miss the times when I can tell you're listening to my nonsense.
it's nonsense baked special for you.
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 1:48 AM UTC
She wore a straitjacket.
It was a tight fit.
Writhing around, she begged for a knife, begged anyone who passed her by.
No one seemed to have more than one glance to throw her way.
This screaming, terrified woman, stumbling through streets and patches of grass,
She yelled for someone to free her. But the most intense emotion she's seen as of late was fear, and fear was an ugly color. She couldn't help but reflect it back.
She found her situation... tragic.
But, one day, someone finally tries to help her.
Taking a knife, this kind stranger begins to cut into this restraint she's found herself in.
And, instead of looking relieved, this woman screams louder, and runs away on broken feet. She runs away as fast as her starving legs could take her.
Because this straitjacket was made of skin.
The pain of metal in her flesh restraint, was unbearable.
Maybe once she's aware of the cycle, she'll push through the pain, to see her arms again...
Doubtful.
Nov 16, 2018
Nov 16, 2018 at 4:30 AM UTC