Eerie spinal crack crack crack
keeps me awake as I dream in and out of your beautiful self perception
you slippery queen
who inhabits my every waking sleeping seconds
like a crushed shell underneath my foot
you inhabit so many pieces
so many forms
so many truly fascinating listless traits
that you choose to give to someone that I am not
but that’s alright,
I say that’s alright
because your love is yours
and not mine
but if it were mine I know I’d do something ugly
like hoard it so that the world could never see it
until I die and rot just like the insides of my skull when you aren’t around.
Mar 14, 2014
Mar 14, 2014 at 8:13 PM UTC
I don’t know where I’m going
but I’m not sure if that’s my problem
or if I’m unhappy
because I expect myself to.
I’m asleep, truly,
for I can feel the seawater dripping from under my eyelids,
seeping down down down through my pillow
and rotting my floors with dreamy mold
all throughout our living space.
No wonder we cough,
no wonder we choke,
no wonder none of us are able to have real relationships
we’re being poisoned by our dreams until nothing is left
but the choking exhaustion
of a day spent laying on our backs
and thinking that tomorrow is the day we’ll fall in love
or next week I’ll finally jump on that train
and away from all of them who do me harm.
I’m trapped in my own personal heaven that’s
halting me from bouncing into reality.
Mar 14, 2014
Mar 14, 2014 at 8:12 PM UTC
so much love is spewing my way
from the boys who love me
and the ones who want to love me
and the ones I want to love me
but don’t think they can.
Christ almighty.
I’m melting
from all of this ****** liberation taking it’s time
too slowly drip dipping down my too young leg.
all of a sudden it’s not pretend,
it’s not fake,
it’s not painted on moans mixed with brushed gold caress
but a cardboard bite on my collarbone
that should feel good in my dreams
but only leaves marks.
these scars are real and won’t flake off into stardust
but will grow and bulge
until they swallow me up
just like I swallow up all those who ask politely.
Mar 14, 2014
Mar 14, 2014 at 8:12 PM UTC
I’m tired I’m tired of being so tired and so lazy and so dull and such a large mess of drip drip insomnia. No chance no chance I’ll get up? My body works for no one my mind frames itself day after day as the villain but will I ever be caught? Hit em right between the eyes hurt me crush me I need to feel it’s all so dull it’s all so boring help help help Christ almighty I’ve been thirsty I’m forever fat and ugly dull and smoggy fighting back and forth with the lies I’ve been wearing, disguise I’ve been blurring. Lightning bolt shoot me down out of the sky the sky I’m polluting nothing more to say my eyes are choked.
Jobs are useless. We are useless. Life is useless. Art is hard. Art is pointless. I feel I feel I feeel I feel nothing I try I try I try there’s nothing I blur I blur I blur I see nothing I fight I fight I fight for nothing. Bright future brute natures cracked backs make good snacks try too hard try so hard not enough not enough where’s the childhood? I’m a child still I’m a child still why the *** why the drugs why the painful throbbing in my head it’s constant consistent never misses a beat no no I try to make it far away with lace and *** and haleyhaleyhaleybaby cmoooon reality is a dream a lie told to you by the A team the ones who know who can make you last with drip drip drip into your pores your veins your poor veins your mind alright? mind your mind and mind your soul for nothing is real when chances are fleeting and time is a flat circle where you relive you relive over and over would you want to relive today? because you’re going to.
Fight the urge to resist to persist to exist to resist I need to find the new people the blue people the better people to lift me up out of my self pity sleep in my overdose chair made of silver and bones. Low self esteem low self esteem worthy of anything besides their life dream. Play with me so I know you aren’t asleep play with me so I know you aren’t asleep why do you want to hurt me why do you want to love me is this abuse or am I just happy we go out and you reject me I’m so low but so high high as the sky can’t touch the sky my fingerprints will leave a mark that’s too much, chocolate covered hands in my saccharine shell pulse pulse pulse little embryo crack your little sugar skull on this plaster world you’ve created berated manifested in this concrete overdrive over overdrawn and overdose stop telling me your story stop trying to change my life my door is not open close it close it keep it closed I’d lock it but then I can’t get out I’m a sucker and self esteem is a lie no one has it no one has it except for you and everyone like you we’re all alike, aren’t we? Same hair same eyes same heart same lies sleep with me sleep with me I’m really not a sad person but won’t you sleep on me and step on me where is my spine oh in a jar.
Feb 24, 2014
Feb 24, 2014 at 10:20 PM UTC
“Hey Mark. It’s Hope. Um, hey. So I know that I’ve left you quite a lot of voicemails in the past few days. I just couldn’t stop worrying about where you were and…and you know how I get. So, finally, I called Rita. And she told me where you were. And now I get it! I understand why you aren’t calling me back. It’s not because you don’t like me anymore or that you’ve grown bored of me, no! It’s not that at all. It’s because…well, it’s because you’re dead. And I know that you’ll never get this and I’m talking into an empty void right now. I can almost hear you laughing at me, saying that I’m just a tree falling in a forest with no one around to hear. But that’s comforting, in a weird way. Especially because of the previous voicemails I left, before I knew where you were. I mean, Jesus, those were so embarrassing just thinking about them makes me want to die! But I’m not dead. You are. Um. Well, I just called because I wanted you to know that you…you were different. You are different. Just because you’ve died doesn’t mean you’re suddenly not sweet or intelligent or courageous or loving. Now that you’re gone my world is a blur full of colors and light but lacking all definition. I went to your work yesterday. All of your coworkers were swarming around me and I just stared and couldn’t recognize anyone. Not even Rita. I had to ask her name, I was so humiliated. And she…she did something that you used to do to comfort me. I doubt she even knew she was doing it. She must’ve picked it up from you or something. Um. She started to massage my hands, you know, like you would do when I would get too scared to breathe. And I closed my eyes. I swear, I swear that in that moment it was you. I know it was you. You were there calming me down, helping me breathe. And I finally could. For the first time in years, I could. But then she asked how I was feeling and I had to open my eyes. I said I didn’t know. I don’t know. I do know that I miss you. I think it’s funny that when I talk about you to others, and I talk about missing you, I can say it in the present tense but when I say that I love you, it sounds wrong. Like they expect me to say that I loved you, as if my devotion stopped the second your heart did. I still love you. I did and I do and I will. I just don’t know if I can ever-" Message deleted. Press 1 to record again.
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 7:59 PM UTC
How fast can I make the days go by if I live them safe inside my mind?
How quick will time go down the drain if I'm locked tight inside my brain?
Daydream, daydream, hours blown away. Nightmare, nightmare, starts a brand new day.
All the people I see are alive. Shallow, frozen, realities of life.
I would rather waste my time away than be with them for one more ******* day.
Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 9:23 PM UTC
In a daydream I've forgotten all the things I know I should have said while you sit folding papers into imaginary things.
I stumble quietly along my path without your hand to hold onto. I wished you wished that you were here but lucky stars are falling.
Your leaving can't hurt me if I choose not to witness it. Your silence can't break me if it's not your turn to speak. You're tired, I see it, in all the things we could have been. My eyesight is failing if you are not there to see.
Kissing fingers, dripping skin, only memories to comfort me. I wish that in my mind there was a switch to turn them off.
In my dreams I see you there with scissors in your hands. I can't tell what that means, you're an imaginary thing.
Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 9:20 PM UTC
1. Sit down and cry. Cry until you have no more tears and don’t even remember the reason for your sadness. Realize that nothing, not even misery, is permanent.
2. Close your eyes and imagine your dream home. Don’t skimp on anything, not even the tiniest details like the doorknob or the lampshade pattern. Keep it always so that whenever you are somewhere heartless and cruel, you have a retreat.
3. Discover a song you love. Listen to it as loud as possible, listen to it as softly as possible. Listen to it backwards, forewords, sideways, and upside down. Extract from it all the truth and magic you can until you’re sick of it. Repeat.
4. Try and realize who your real friends are. Not the ones who will smile at your jokes and laugh at their own, but the ones who will walk with you even in the darkest of nights and never have to reassure you that they’re there.
5. Cut your hair. Cut it as short as you can without making your mother cry. Recognize that when someone says they don’t like it, what they’re really saying is that your appearance is for their pleasure. Know that it is not.
6. Choose a day just to watch. Watch the wind whispering to the trees, the grass reaching for the sky, the clouds hanging on by a thread. Make eye-contact with the moon and see that everything is watching you back. They’re rooting for you.
7. Learn how to make your favorite food. Learn how to make it exactly like your mother does. And every time you taste those familiar flavors, know that home is wherever you are.
8. Draw yourself. Don’t look in a mirror while you do this, draw yourself as you truly think you are. When you’re finished, take a photo of yourself. Compare the two. Realize that how you perceive you and how the world sees you will always be different.
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 6:42 PM UTC
you left me on a warm day in November, when the sun was icy and the clouds resembled falling
snowflakes, suspended in the same disbelief that I was. I had a sudden rush of recognition that the
long red thread that anchored our bed had broken and there was nothing more keeping you here than
the ghosts of a kiss that once held the world. I tried to hold you, to warn you of the damage you were
wreaking on my leaking soul, when you spit me out onto the sidewalk and lulled me with
kind words until you were far enough away to run. I won’t ever forget your soft-shelled whispers. I
won’t ever forget your pricked-finger touch. I can’t ever forget your deep-ocean kiss. I can’t ever
forget your fairy tale. I can’t ever forget our mutual thinly veiled neglect. your moan is all that kept
me awake during the draught. please don’t let me go.
Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 2:52 AM UTC
Why must something so close feel so far away? Why must something so lovely also be as big and
scary as the ghosts hiding under my nail beds? I long for a real world away from these suburban city
streets reeking with the secrets and secretions of the American middle class. I long for green trees
wrapped around the throats of skyscrapers in an attempt to get them to listen. I wish to see men and
women locked in an embrace as strong as love but quite the opposite as they walk lazily to their ever
present corporate bloodlines.
Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 2:51 AM UTC