I wanna **** myself.
its your birthday.
maybe then
i won't have to see you
watch me **** myself on mine.

i spread pictures
of your past
so you can watch.

there are none of my own.

they're kept in a vault
called excommunicate.

something that never was
will disintegrate there.

goodbye.

the last words
of a dying man
are enscribed
on the walls
of my skull.

in every breath i speak
you're there.

i hope you can hear this.

"in prison,..what you think
is what you are."
he was two weeks out of a 13 year sleepover. He told this to me
in my dream.
a year later i think of it.

i now know the one true place
a person is imprisoned.

its several thousand nightmares
having eachother.

makinglovemakingkids

I hang myself
in every hammock
in which I lay..

I never understand
the vista from which I stand.

it is boundless
directionless
but hounded after by me
eternally and still.

the fact that i am in a room is mind blowing....i don't think anything can top that.