taylor-marion
Whisper
American
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Bandaid
Who dares intrude my solitude? / Loftily peasant, don't be rude! / Don't make me say
54
Mar 1, 2012
Blah blah Blah
It doesn't matter where you came / and how you did / But it matters what was inside of you the whole time.
30
Feb 23, 2012
Bungalow
Faint pink. That's the only color interpretation that comes to mind and the first one i see before i open my eyes every morning since we moved in. Since we caved ourselves inside this quaint little bungalow like grizzly bears. / Hibernating and marinating, we shared each others scent, cents, regrets and repents. Lented out love like dollar bills because we are homeless yet sheltered, somehow without a sugar-coated ceiling. Which is okay for us, for sometwos who revel in the occasional, sensual rain of our wooden cabin and the fragrant sunburn of its wick. / Day in and day out, we become ill just so we can give the shirts off our backs to wipe the sick from each other's bodies til we're nurished to health. Routinely follow every direction: lather, rinse, repeat, lather, rinse, repeat. Retreat.
24
Jul 22, 2014
Can't do candid
A steady post lingers in the distance, reading "Allied Road." It's been abadoned for quite sometime now and the ruins are filled of relics. Dust. / We burned it down together, dont you remember? / With our propane tongues and Zippos the size of patches used to cover one eye.
21
Jul 13, 2014
Dead flame
Dirty footmarks marble the milky white carpet, / even with the muddy soles(souls) left untied at the door. / They sit motionless eating dinner with empty plates rested on a table top so dusty it leaves a print when it's palmed.
16
Jun 6, 2014
Deeply Rooted Yet Still Lost
The common desire to define ourselves is defeaning and my ears are ringing. I'm searching for the foundation of the sound, the definite core where I grow from the ground. I have the power to water my basis but instead I let the impression of myself through anothers biases dry up and dust away. I'm kicking rocks below my barefeet, hoping that when I spread and share my air the opinions of who surrounds me wont pollute it to the degree where I can no longer breathe. And now im rocking back and forth in this creeking wooden chair, the roots of relative minds rested below me reminding me what was once there and whether or not something tangible will result when the inevitabilities of life chop me down and leave me bare. / So I guess until tomorrow, or a week, a month, a year, I'll disintegrate into the soil before any of my peers and it won't hurt so bad to be left alone when I know their roots above still continue to fully grow.
13
Jun 20, 2014
Dreaming of dreaming
Feeling uncomfortable in a comfortable space seems odd enough to dismiss. At least, that's how it is when I'm sleeping. So many people; A deep saturation that can continue for years, I swear. That's one memory my sub-mind let me keep, and it was a thrill. My judgement was so impaired that happiness came immediately, profoundly as much as anything else. / But that's the point, finally I felt. / All of the faces my sight craves to taste, the faces I receive no more than the tiniest of sips were unified into one tall glass of water. I might as well have had gills because I drank it so gratefully it seemed I had been deprived of hydration since the beginning of blue moons. So many people. At least, that's how it is when I'm sleeping.
20
Jun 17, 2014
Everything is Nothing
No writing could ever explain, / No pencil could ever draw it out, / No bulb could ever bring to light
48
Mar 1, 2012
Father, I have sinned
Father, I have sinned. / Ive compelled myself a mate and painted my body gold, pure and metallic and let him hang me around his lacey neck like a chained noose. / Father, i have sinned.
35
Nov 19, 2014
For You
Deep down, there is a pulse. / A weak tremor of an adolescent heart. It loves profoundly and feels passionately. Dreams hopefully. / It may not be as fresh as it was once, but it endlessly and relentlessly aims to redeem itself.
21
Nov 19, 2014
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