The immediacy of wolves
Send her home, home
Unborn benevolence
Undone pasture lifted
Dust-howled into hell
Bright iron and tongue tied
At the end of not all--but
Something
Something
Something
And it means so much
Much much more than it should
This something
And leave it at that:
Mystic bliss
And leave
Leave the voice of the prophet
to be noised and white
The IV drip
You used to wait on summer
Thou shalt not
Not anymore

I cut open my own head to examine my thoughts.
"What the **** are you thinking you know this can't work"
But in reality I don't know.
In fact I don't know much of anything.
But one thing I do know is life is short.
And two years from now I'll laugh at myself for being so blind.
Assuming I make it that far.

I wanted to say
the moon seemed
so bright
day became night
in perfect silence
and the stars were born
into madness, into light

you appeared and I
wanted to know

bored as ****
so i bite my nails to the rim
and pretend that maybe you like it when you look at me