I see you whispering at the shows
Your words will never harm me
My jeans aren't black enough?
Girl please, I’m ~~PV RoYaLtYy~~

One in the same,
how dare you

Judge me?
We've all been

Rejected,
We've all felt the

Hurting.

There were still little words grated in the brush, ourself riding around, a great black horse,

the eyeliner, and an iris forest escapes.  I am the flowering fire, a sunset westcoast in the twinkling

airwaves, or radiowaves, and so we can breathe the literal mass of wind.  The green carressed and

aerially blessed, deepness and depth; what is truly grey.

The powerlines stretch hungrily for days, we see the purple glow and thus it exists-- we graze like

ghosts or bugs and try to find the blessed.  We wind up and clear the smoke, and blindness is only

black until death peers through, and calls the bird call, a shrilling through the spiritual silence.

I can see you on maps, you reoccur the same, giant and all. You are the same story and dwell

in roles through my brain.

burnt morning. the breakfast was gone so I had coffee. The details of dolphins were the bathroom mantra; turning the eyes inside out.
Refolding the socks I realized a smell I hadn't in "years".  The gas must have been avoiding me. A smell of butterscotch. Why I haven't been able to smell butterscotch is unknown to me.  
I remember a turquoise flame when the bonfire burnt the old tire. No one was around so the fire was for me and me alone. Me and me alone.  
I used to force the ***** down my throat and it seeped out my eyes in paint thinner tears.  A faraway howl of a wolf--how bad ***.  I was like the very-peak of a glacier come to reclaim me stomachspot in the Wild.  Fortunes came and went and I began to melt.  Ice cream in the hand of a toddler. Pink icecream in the hand of a giant who wouldn't take care of the courage when it looked so mediocre and small.  It's about time the dark ghosts come to reclaim their nest, so come on, I'm waiting.

i hope the world's just a little grayer without me,
and i hope soon i'll be able to see your hand on someone else and not think of your hands on me.
and i hope you remember me sometimes.
and i hope we meant anything.
and i hope that song makes you think of me
and i hope the world keep turning and my heart keeps changing and i hope this ends soon.
and i hope you don't leave forever
and i hope i don't leave forever either,
and if i do i hope to god that i come back.

girls like me, we can't make ourselves stay.
i wish i could, i do.
i can't shake the itchy-skin feeling of being here
and i can't help but want to get away.

we have fickle and jealous hearts, girls like me.
we can't trust ourselves to be loved
because we love so changeably.
we're difficult, girls like me.
difficult to love, difficult to fall out of love with.

we're born with anger.
we have all the ghosts and the wisdom our hearts can hold.
i am difficult to please and it's no one's fault but my own
and i get tired of people and i get tired of places
and no matter where i am i always want to leave.

i don't choose to be as restless and as jealous and as jittery as i am,
and i don't choose to feel so old some of the time
and i don't choose to be so guarded, so hypocritical, so abrasive.

girls like me, we are beautiful and strong and ages old -
it has been since the beginning and it will be till the end,
spirits like ours.
we are breakable and irrepressible
afraid and invincible
and we are made to survive things and to know things
and we are made for the wildest of laughter
and we are made for the too-big types of sadness
and we are something to see.

I feel guilty,
grabbing a drink first thing in
The mourning.

Only then
I look at my phone
and see that it is 12pm

And everything feels alright again.

Anxiety,
come and go
as you
Please

It doesn't even matter,
though
It was only a
Dream