spilling milk like blood
or is it the other way around?
either way.... you're just a tree
leaf
stem
snaps like a cracked knuckle
it feels good but
one of these days....
you may just go too far
~~
soundwaves ripple
and tickle my feet
the ground I stand on
can no longer be trusted
the playlist is called BRAIN FOOD
and god, it tastes good
god, she
tastes
so
good
the sounds fill me up like invisible fodder
there's a certain wholeness
to the beat
thick like a rug
pulled out from under
cast into never.
7d ago
May 26, 2026 at 7:49 PM UTC
If March were a car
she'd be a stretch limousine
made for the right people
but still much too long
If March were a color
she'd be the least used crayon in the box
drab, drowsy, and pale
and ugly
If March were a lover she'd **** me slowly
while the daffodils watch
If March were a lover she'd be a fools spring
hinting promise of warmth she can't provide
short days won't warm bones
miss me here
see you there
Apr 21
Apr 21, 2026 at 6:26 PM UTC
I've always been
a person of proximity;
spoiled by touch,
intrigued by the journey,
lovers equi-distant
these couches-turned islands
have miles between them
& i've run out of fodder
to fill the void.
i would eat this furniture whole
if i could
only to have a reason to replace it
worn-out frames and tired upholstery
it would take a lifetime to digest
it would end me...
my organs could
splinter and
my lungs, they'd most certainly give out...
and where would my heart go?
oh... there's no room?
you'll take it with you when you leave?
i was never meant to hold this much
stuff
i was never meant to be a home
for you
Apr 8
Apr 8, 2026 at 6:49 PM UTC
One thing about me,
I'm a person of proximity;
spoiled by touch,
but it's not quite enough,
lovers equi-distant.
Apr 8
Apr 8, 2026 at 6:39 PM UTC
don't touch my pile of dirt
i'm hoping something will grow out of it
i put it in a special place,
under the window
next to my bed
there's one in the living room by the door
the cats don't mind
it's their chaos to cause
maybe they want something
to grow, too
so next time you come over,
pretend not to stare
at my favorite little dirt pile
sitting over there
winter was long,
so i brought earth indoors
when you go, take some with you
it's yours, it's yours
Apr 8
Apr 8, 2026 at 6:35 PM UTC
The place where I dream
is familiar until it isn't
My childhood home becomes a stage
for everyone I've ever met.
The place where I dream
is somewhere I've never been...
...but I can find my way around
Hallways lined with portraits
I recognize their faces...
...from somewhere
The place where I dream
is never the same twice
The place where I dream
has too many staircases
The place where I dream
is too forgettable
The place where I dream
is where I return to
Apr 8
Apr 8, 2026 at 6:30 PM UTC
the sound of silence
is glass before it breaks
air falls heavy around me
like a silent snow
<crystalline cracks coalescing cold>
to capture silence
is to embrace
the negative space
between words and wisdom
is to bite between breaths
don't lose the idea...
<I have a recurring dream>
I am in my childhood home
but it's not my home
it's the only time emptiness and silence were so tangible
I could taste it
a corner chair covered in clothing, wearing the day like a burden
i see myself through the eyes of an unknown presence
sound carries but silence is held;
sound carries the burden but silence holds her close.
Mar 1
Mar 1, 2026 at 8:53 PM UTC
you run my mind like a routine
making your rounds
seasonally
or
unexpectedly
like the beginning of a playlist i just finished listening to
i just finished listening to
you
and you're here
again
"there's something intimate about never speaking to someone again"
I deleted your number and I regret it
there, I said it
For I was a fool to think you were the
[repentant] type
the type to
reach
out
if i could talk to you today
i'd have so much i'd want to say
like,
how I kept your film photos
your memory in a box under my bed
your secret after all these years
i'd tell you
i'm sorry
because the rest of the world
is tired of hearing it.
i'd tell you
i listen to every song you write
because they're all about me
[even if they're not]
ML
Mar 1
Mar 1, 2026 at 8:40 PM UTC
This year I'll get into Matcha
I like the color and
I think it tastes fine
You'll find
I'm drawing up new lines
In the sand
I'll say, don't come any closer unless you have a tetanus shot
It's a DIY barbed wire fence
wrapped so tightly around my heart,
with every beat I bleed
I'm reminded of my guarded ways
But what's a fence without intruders?
This year I'm drawing lines in the sand and
digging trenches outside my door
My dinner guests will bring planks of wood
if you loved me
you'd build a bridge
just for a family dinner
This year we'll indulge
in a feast of flesh
and body
because being in love has never tasted so sweet
Adoration is the ruffage and
Loyalty the main course
Tied together by napkins
A linen that never stretches nor frays
Fat fills our bellies and we shine with the grease of our ****
This year I'm shedding layers like the serpentine
Saturn returning to my nightly sky
This year I'm saying yes
This year I'm saying no
Jan 8
Jan 8, 2026 at 3:19 PM UTC