He was angry
presently moving backwards
He blamed the serpent wrung around his neck,
gripping right with every
direction he took.
I had the world in front of my eyes
I showed him the people,
Who is now, who has been, yet
He only saw their necks wrung tight.
He showed me their eyes
all of them burning.
He said no present can release the grip of its past
I saw their serpents winking,
But they hid their smug expressions
from an angry man
And he did not believe me
So I showed him mine.
My eyes glazed over, and for just a moment
He saw that even
could suffocate on command
under the weight of a past
It was then that he saw my serpent wink
There’s nothing more vulnerable than an angry man
realizing he’s been tricked into dying
for his past.
i picture red ugly drunks, bitter
while delirious women dance around them
Together, lathered in music,
rock symphonies trudge over their pounding headaches
i dont really care
'sorry to **** on your opinion'
i dont really care enough
I have this new light about me
No single memory can stop me
From freeing my feet at night
And driving through my mindscape
Yet full of color and every
External Sense I could
Imagine to be true
So it must be something real
My images are projected senselessness
Rich and simultaneously void of
So touchable this
Ungraspable and malleable palpable void
I awake unmoved
Having been everywhere presented
I recall half of nothing
And each day goes by
Where I pass places I’ve been
Changed, structured beyond definition
I’ve been there once before
And it was not in this waking life
It’ll have this recognizable feel
Of Complete void demolished
Beyond my ability to comprehend anything
But what I know it to be
In a place where my feet haven’t touched
And I’m quietly obtaining ability
To create a world outside of my knowledge
Of what is true in
This waking state
I’ve been here once before, and it was different
My senses are not immune to the trickery
So I fall back
Into another dream
And wonder where I’ll go for the first time
That I’ll reunite with tomorrow
Only to find it’s honest form
And I won’t be able to help but smell the air I created just the night before.
When I was younger
I knew I’d cry over nostalgia
When I got older
That certain songs would fill me with emptiness and a longing to sink my feet into
Which I once lived in the flesh
I’d experience moments and say I’ll remember this forever
All I have are the memories of promising I’ll remember
Not what I was really doing
Not what I was looking at in front of me who I was talking to about my pants or sharing a cigarette with
Just the feeling
Rushing through my body reminding myself that once day I’ll be old and won’t know this girl in front of me
But I hope she lives her life happy and that I made her night with my compliments and offerings of vices.
I remember the long hallways filled with people smoking and kissing till we had to go home
At 3 am to our friends houses with the chillest parents
I was such a little delinquent
And I loved to be out late in the middle of downtown laughing and walking sideways saying sorry I ******* can’t walk right ladies it’s just the way I am.
I was never a mean girl, just lived, loved to please my girls, make friends and tease boys
As I drift to sleep
I’ll say this now
There’s no humanity no love
And IM used
4:02. Am now 4:03
Writing about it doesn’t
Help much but okay
I’ll write more or less for me (or you) (that would be just “you” to fit the haiku)
Life has been
I have this raw drive, hot
from the yellow Sun,
and with feet still lazy
the Moon is pushing me
to run fast
Stop pleasing mean friends
Who reveal nothing sad
Their one lie is yet to be used up
Last night I couldn’t sleep
I knew I eventually would somehow,
but I was worried about
My health again.
Will I die too young? Sometimes things
just happen that way.
I don’t think I’d be as ready to embrace
death as I think I would
But then again I’d be dead, remembering what I am,
ready to lose myself once more.
thats an ultimate embrace.
I just think I don’t want my mother to cry.
I was trying to fall asleep
with this half worry about
death health and habits
I noticed a clock ticking
something I’d overlooked over my
2 day stay.
This was good.
A small light flashed. It flashed every 5-6 ticks
of the very loud clock.
I closed my eyes,
They sprang open, not ready to shut
I let them shut on their own.
I heard bells
It doesn’t matter
And then it came closer.
I dont let that bother me too much.
As I finally drifted I saw flashes
Of dark images.
Things that made me ask “how do I come up with this ****? Is it the bells?”
I became a bit frustrated that
I was coming to irrational conclusions.
I tried to replace the images but they
Smeared themselves in blood
And ate their own heads
I hacked up their bodies with my mind.
I’m just trying to get some sleep.
Eventually I did.
I slept at the expense of my imagination characters lives.
monkey men, they
Worship the wax moon
yet are quick to rip away
All goddesses of her will to live raw.
If we can reveal the moon and her bare light from blue shadows
He, like time must watch through water
As dreams smear together
The skin of our feet reveals them, remembering where we’ve been.
11 hours ago
I lifted myself all that I could bare
Countless messes untouched
Behind more days left to live
And everybody bothered me
I decided to put some things away
Grasp information with my now empty palms
I accepted time
I lost a dear friend
I will see him again one day.
I am easily bothered but that’s okay
Change is necessary
Not always expected,
But if it never happened nothing
I ******* miss Luke
And would give anything
******* anything to change the change
But that’s not how change works.
I will continue and see this journey through.
I’ll think of you when I’m reminded that
And still exist somewhere in some
Funky *** form
You’re probably having so much fun
Living free roaming this earth in a strange body
You’ll have to learn to use.
But as long as im alive I will remember the body
That smoked kush with his friends and
Listened to strange music.
I love to live.
I love you, dear friend.
I wish I could’ve seen your graphic novel
Completed whole and filled with nothing
But utter creative complexity.
Long live axel and his world
created at the hands of a complicated boy
Who did everything to live free.
Thank you ghost boy.
blood woman knew
the music ticking
in her drunks mind
while visiting his mother
Total good is closer to sore
living and red gratitude
I hope you find a better medium than beating your own *** with the cliches
The stuff under my bed
It collects dust
But protected by monsters
fascinated with the talk of a stripper
Talk faster, im draining you mister
I always end up saving these men from themselves
And I wonder each time if what I’m doing is right
Because at some point I lose them or
they lose me
Did I do any good at all
Do they cry at night wanting a woman’s touch
Or do they lay awake hating my figure and picturing me in flames or at the grip of their hands around my throat
Am I supposed to avoid it
Or is it important that these men come across me
As If im some savior like a **** Jesus Christ
They can cry to laugh with **** hard and discuss what’s behind our flesh that no man has seen. Are they supposed to meet me
and is losing me always the point
Is this a part of the plan or apart from it
As if the extreme of enabling a behavior becomes the opposite extreme, one of selfishness when I’m drained. Except To them there’s only one kind of selfish.
First they will blame themselves then me then god for creating them then their parents then themselves, there’s never anybody left but themselves
They return hollow, into themselves, forever selfish.
My fear is rising
And it doesn’t resolve with
Flat and spiking
I’m afraid and unmoved
My hands are like steel plates
Barely dangling from my body anymore
With the weight they hold
They’re no longer far from the ground
I’m traveling in one spot
Almost empty now
And nothing but rot
I’m back to nothing
It so far now
And nothing awaits me
My plated hands are gone
How long is this misery
You hold me and it’s not that
Fair of you to do
So you do it anyways
We are but tiny sun men
We see light as dark
Over the hills are golden days
White at night and rounded caves
Under our skin there must be more
Nobody knows, for we are just men.
What lies there but ourselves, that which is of the sun?
All say that
Love must be put to bed
Yet we ask of our women:
What are we and what is beneath our skin
How did you let the light in
When will man rust?
Some told their small lies
All to suit a sad tongue
“For there is gold underneath,
Yet the rust is scared of man
Their shadow always about and messy
Inside of man is neat truth, hidden”
but we sun men only heard there is gold beneath
So we slaughtered the lot of them
And realized where rust grows
In the toil of used blood where the sun once shined
In darkness there is light
Exposed, only dark.
We are sun men, and no longer do we ask such questions.
1:31 am / 1:13am
Put my ******* on a diet
Was your need not blood?
Black walls with shiny black tiles
Whistle whistle whistle
Nothing rhymes within this hymn we’ll see you in another ten (In hell *******)
How are you?
It’s almost midnight,
At this point it’s our cue.
It’s not what it’s seems to be, the light.
We’re here to play, day and night
And neither of us are new at this I presume
I’ll spit out the window till I’m out of spit (too soon)
Evil orange sun
In no way either inherently, underneath it all
all the smog, smoggy smoke and upheaved
Dusty dirt is a life giver a killer a creator a cop
A desire manifest
Evil today, been evil still will be evil
As long as its clouded this way
And if its clouded this way for much longer
I will seal its evil between my greenish eyes and the orange paste
Reflection where the two colors have no
Harmony only some kind of indifference which neither
transcends or pierces the other and there’s no
Way to tell if one knows the other exists
The light hits all corners of my home and I cannot
Escape this evil orange and when I close my eyes
They only adjust to black according to the former
Still evil and apocalyptic I am close
To doing nothing anymore
Till suddenly even nothing creeps back and presents
Its evil and purposeless self right
Before my illusory green and dumb eyes
I am profound
So profoundly struck by evil
That my fear bubble has burst and
Scattered its microscopic babies in every
Direction to outlive its competition my wit
And reality, non paranoic paranoid nerve endings and synapses and
Neurons I am scattered now completely overpowered by tiny
Evils I’ve created that this orange has put inside of me
That I have grown and birthed I
Am now going to sit and go about my evil day
Eating my evil sandwich evil Thai food and
Washing my evil hair as long as the orange sun shines on me
what a joy it is to think
One moment I’m erratic, borderline ******
My face is sticky, so I’m laughing at his jokes
This is me winding down a mountain
looking to sink as I sing into this drink
YOURE taught to live behind a curtain
Meanwhile snot is oozing out my cheeks
IM watching tv
tremendously pushing buttons
simultaneously tasting sweet
im burning all my clothes and falling from a tower
all the Marks were right to manufacture laughter
I’m on the train
It’s hardly dark outside
with the amount of lights that are
I’m taking up a 4 seater, comfortable
Only im not enjoying
my soar throat
Which I kept shoveling smoke into
When I visited a friend
And we smoked together with our sore throats
Afternoon smoking after hydration
and a meal
Some lady left her headphones
in the seat across the walkway from mine
I tried to look around and see if I could find this woman without a face
No luck, but a man recognized my concern
And said “next stop, it’s LA”. Yes.
I appreciate his effort,
so I flash another recognizable
expression, gratitude with a smile
I Turn back around into my seat.
The table across from me is taken again by another stranger, but she doesn’t see what I see.
One more stop till home, then I promise to heal my throat.
sleep is timely
Like the fast tongues of women
with black hair
They ask beneath our sky
As if it were one last stop before death
borderline pinching with the shakes
Abrasively I’m dialing
Itchy skin fingers toy with fine dining
What do you know about blame?
And do you always think you’re definitely in love this time?
It’s 9:00 exactly
I’m laying in bed
This haiku didn’t help much
I don’t know if it’s okay to be in love with you. I’m just not sure what two humans are supposed to do about it except itch.
I see it through my eyes
So this world is mine
If others exist beyond my sight
They might have their own sight too
So I won’t try to dominate what is mine to hold
Hours I spent looking at our world
I called it ours
So it is
Make sweet love in Oxnard
I used to spit on my shoes a lot
Now I spit on my open toed sandals
I’m not mad that you feel the way you feel
Obsession washes over me and I forget that this isn’t how people love one another. I want an instant release of hand holding and making it somewhere sketchy. I’m misunderstood and have abandoned many men who thought they loved me because I’m alone.
They didn’t, that’s ok. I do, that’s better.
You doubt that things will be okay without me
You’re pulling me back harder than
When we were together.
I have a cold demeanor
And it’s noticed
Stings their nose, the stench
when it’s coming off my skin and foaming from my mouth
the love spell stench
they hate the simple things I love
sometimes I think that I know what it means to be alive
and when I forget it makes
no sense at all
then they’re all strangers and not at
all close to real
so escapable its understandable.
They don’t really like that, and if they think they do
It’s because intellectualism is the new ****.
it can be a misery
They are all too human, like an animal
I call and call for some reason and that reason is a voicemail not set up so if the horrible truth is true tonight ill never hear that voice again
She knows she is Jesus Christ just one child just like the man himself and shes loud from time to time
she downs some coffee
ISNT THIS STRANGE
DISGUSTING AND FUN LIKE MOST THINGS HERE
How long will your mouth move like that saying s o r r y in one long word like it’s a sentence in itself you’re sorry you’re sorry we’re all sorry to be alive isn’t that enough of an apology maybe you’re not sorry enough but you’re sorry enough to do it again and again and again like it’s a sad sad excuse an excuse that you’re sorry enough to say how many times can we say sorry in this long long life I’m ready to throw you over my shoulder I’m sorry I’m sorry I couldn’t throw you far enough west across this ocean I’m sorry for where all my empty bottles end up after I’m a long time drunk and all your pill bottles go there too after a long long binge you’re sorry do you live there do you go here weird question I’m sorry have a nice long sorry night
Tom kha fish soup
It helps me feel better when I’m sick
The delivery place isn’t answering
And I’m left here with a sore throat
Alone with nobody to chat with
Not even the Thai food receptionist lady.
Grueling over this takeout menu
I cleaned my side table off
Ready for this soup
I’m just sitting here
With bad posture and thinking about writing
So I’m writing how I feel
About that **** good
Hot and spicy Tom kha
Waiting for this stoge to burn
It’s a blue spirit
I’ll be waiting a while
Been in a weird head space the last week, and part of it brought on loneliness so if I made you feel uncomfortable I’m sorry. It might just be in my head, but I hope we’re cool.
And if I didn’t, that’s great. I’m just unsure if my offness was noticeable or taken the wrong way.
This is literally terrible and so cringe 20:38 pm
Cause and effect is crazy because he could’ve done this or that but he didn’t and I didn’t and nobody did.
im flustering before the door
I am going through it today
im going through two more.
likely its me, addicted to the lure.
too many downs my face is permanently bound.
malignant. im suddenly tremendously livid.
rose from the dead I know
im more to life than that
im bouncing. off the walls I’m laughing.
todays the day until forever.
alive and green and well and up. about, staged.
im winding, im twisting and falling in love.
I will bump my head against yours until they bleed.
next day is today and there is a bit of a spot in the distance.
its just a turn I can feel it. its just a turn I can feel it.
its just a turn I can feel it. faithful everlong.
a personified monologue.
numbers say hello and
im still. connected to the floor, offering.
He’s obsessed with his need for my comfort
and there is nothing I can do to keep him from the vile hatred that comes with falling out of love with me.
will he help himself the way he promised every night we lay alone kissing tears off of each other. Will he still think of me and drown it in pills every night that he hopes the bitter taste of it will wash mine away from his tongue.
Religion is a very tricky thing, because what it does is
Lines of yellow between the breaks of my fingers
In front of my throbbing head
Face, body and mind
I’m glad you’re alive.
And I’m glad that I am
maybe I shouldn’t have told you
Like maybe you’re over it
Today is the day,
Help me Hindsight
I’m ignoring Iris
Juice box Justice
Primary school Population
Understanding Unanimous Updates
seXually perpleXed by Xylophones.
Tell me you’re lying
My mom sends me a picture of herself
Talking about how there’s guardian angels
On the subways in New York
when men hold me, I feel so alone
Is it my turn to tuck you in like your
Mother never did?
10:15 pm, 777777777777777777