When draped in cloths of purple and the finest crimson,
Gallivanting through the summered forest,
All covered in flower and magic and light.

When heavy in the swoon of a summer afternoon,
Or bathing in the lukewarm embrace of our troubles,
Wallowing away the days
And counting down to the ones when we never have to think.

Or if by chance on the silvery moon,
When gilded with fantasy, and sitting on a happy cloud,
Overlooking our town and falling over from laughter,
For we can finally see how small we are.

It's when we find the golden afternoon,
That special time when birds never die and fairies fly,
That we will truly be content with the way of the hour glass,
And only then can we replace the changeling
With the actual thing,
No longer lost in the green and the mess,
Standing tall in the eaves,

When on our golden afternoon,
We shall be forever friends.

My favorite is
Sasha Pivovarova
She's always so nice

She'll be off-duty
On my 19th birhtday, so
I think we'll hang out.

She's my favorite
Off-duty model for she's
Never off duty.

When I get tired,
My legs just want to move.
It's funny in a way.

The ways my body works against me.

When we were young,
A universe was erected in our home.
The walls of our home were infinite and magical,
They were impenetrable and everlasting.
When we jumped, we thought maybe
We could fly.
When we were young, we could
Get lost in our house.
It was a whole world,
The outdoors were only an extension.
When we were young,
Dinnertime was solemn and thoughtless
Snacks came and went.
Floorboards held unknown delicacies and treasure troves.
When we were young,
We believed in the magic of mankind
And the infinity of a home.
When we were young,
We never expected to be anything else.

The surefire way
         To cure a rainy day
Is a cup or a ***
         Of one Earl Grey.

I'm living on the edge of this life,
Looking out like a pensive seagull
On the Cliffs of Dover,
The pristine white edge of my life.

Looking at the people below play house
And play job
And play love
And play smart
While I pretend to be what you tell me to be.

I smoke light cigarettes
Alone on the bridge
And blow smoke up the trees.

I'm on the edge,
The sharp edge
And I yearn for trouble.
I want turbulence,
I want ****,
I want earthquake,
I want for the earth to shake,
And I want nuclear fallout.

The badder the better
Is what I always say.

At least as of late.

And then the snow came,
Covered the world in white.
A music box of listless thoughts
like pictures out of frame.

It whooshes by so swift,
so quick and beautiful.
One side of the street is slow.
The other is fast.
Opposing ends,
cations.
Magnets,
pulling, tearing,
into one beautiful waltz of latewinter hurrah.
It is so beautiful because not a sole has touched its fall.
Perfectly ****** and smooth.
It is infinity,
never-ending
and terrifying.
Only until the morning breaks
and the people will scuttle from their perches and they will tread
all over its happy white sheet.
What a shame when the morning comes.
Let it stay like this forever.
It is all white
Turbulent
fast
scary
blurry
Nowhere, not anywhere will you see a tread.
It is perfect and always.
It brings me closer to myself
and further from all else.
It won't require a signature
and it doesn't run out of ink.
It is suppliant and healthy.
It will always be.
However, it will melt when the sun beats down.
The sun will come and **** the core.
It will shun out all of my comforts and leave me to be where I want to be the least.
God of night,
shun that terrible sun. Let it be gone forever.
Never let it find me.
Forever hold me in your embrace.
Fall fall fall fall fall fall fall fall fall fall
forever and ever more.
From heaven to earth
the designated gift from God.
Down from the fat lady into our palms
fall fall fall fall
churn my mind water, churn my dreams.
Me, on the ground.

There is a light in the distance. So small and halogen.
It is amber to the core.
A siren in the storm.
Hearth of the madness.
Half-moon of serenity.

Oh I will never understand my words.
Never will I begin to learn my meaning.
What what what does it mean?
I never will understand.

God, what a great and terrible beauty.
What the hell have I done to you?
You were perfect and now a mess.
It is all my undoing. Why have I done it?

Please forgive me.
Or let me learn,

Let there be light tomorrow. Forget this night.

Now I can never stop, for it never stops.
Why should they be mutually exclusive?
I cannot rest until it is gone.
IT WILL NEVER BE GONE.
I can never get proper sleep.
I SHALL FOREVER BE A SHELL.

Sleep, says the amber half-moon.
Sleep and let all your troubles fall like a cell in the storm.
Let your mind be lost in the drift of snow.