Yeah. We got a course.
We tied a knot around our knacks and

threw away the keys, mixed all our metaphorical

nanobot thoughts re
bits
and pieces of sound forming words on rock, a sign.

-- we have such rocks, I can show you, on my phone.
-- I went there, when I buried my brother, in a pauper grave.
un marked, like Cochise, in cowboy movies.

What's a cowboy movie, grandpa?

Those were used, used to, teach us not to lie and cheat and steal.

But a few among us were chosen, marked with kneckerchiefs,

mine was pinksilk,as I recall the shame and feel the blush
on the face of a child,

like a slap, exactly
like a slap, so you read this story after good at games grandpa

releases the forget me not spell embodied in my grand intention.

I was going to tell stories on the radio and fiddle and yodel
and square dance with the actual little red headed girl

none of which makes any sense, so I yodel and laugh at the fact

I am alive
at this moment in history and I can in fact hold the wind in my fist.

Mymetalmental fist of reason - logos in greek, I hear soul spirit daemon
fist of the being kind who trouble their own house and

survive to inherit the wind. Life is not boring after that.

But the rapids in rivers of reasons to believe are no danger to the fluent
substance of things hoped for, annihilator of things we dread.

I said I was good in this game. There is no making of evil here, we have

make overs and do overs ad infun items, grammerly is dis-allowed,

but, if I were your age, I would take a chance on gramps, experience wise,
punctuation makes the habakkuk habit easier, but limiting

Some of these early adapters... Usenetshit and vacuum tubes for transisters,

the code is gold. Axiomatic as all get out.But no empty space

--- really. Test me, if you felt like life was this scary when this story started;

how scary is it now?

{thread breaks 844 whatever hello sir im calling on a recordeline on belaf of president trump}

where to begin?
                                                     not this **** again
            the constant deliberation
                                                    ­                 your harsh beration

is that even a word?


I wouldn't know, you're not here to correct me


But I'll still prostrate myself before you
Never imply, never implore you
to swallow the pride I so eminently taste
on the tip on your tongue in the flames of your space

for I articulated immensely and pure,
I've no pride left -- I've already tried to say

                                   that I Miss You

In the olive branch of thought, or concern, or encouragement


The snicker on your lips at the edge of the cord
Has snapped in my face, in a favored exchange
You say I don't owe you
But maybe I do?
I couldn't tell you why

                                                       I'll still say I Miss You

Chuckle in my face
                                            say I'm looking too hard
when half passed a year, and I saw that you star-        -ted
to write in the place I hold dear to my heart
You played where you meant and you knew these parts

I would puzzle together would puzzle my head
to ensure that your seed had been planted and fed

And I hate the feeling you put in this trough
                             I'll lap at the puddle, still claim that is

All Love.

                        You forget that I know you
From that you can't hide
                         You forget that I know the shake in your voice
When you lie

                                                         Despite your uncanny ability still,
This hostility doesn't suit you
                                         Not that I think that I will
change that as of late.


I just wish you could swallow that burdened mind
The one with the Pride?
The one you never tried

                                                     to combat or control
because control is a need


I see that , I know that ,              so control what you please


But no more, not me
It's me.
It is me.

Can you not at all, remember it's me?

Not a burden
A binding
An obligation "back home"

No pressure
No lectures
Just a box of our notes.

The snipping aversion proceeding the kind
Doesn't look good on you,

I've reached and I've tried.

So I'll favor this favor, because my heart's cured --

Unbandaged,
         I'll tell you I Miss You
                                                          once more.





                                 this time try to
Be honest with me.

Oftentimes, you realize, that the shaking of an intangible void, desperate, clinging before it too is lost on an otherworldly transform of otherwise incomprehensible, nightmarish, or null thoughts, buried between the conceptions of self-deliverance and a bone-knuckled release into an endlessly exploding oblivion, or the intangible touch of a thousand tiger's treasuries.

i can live with forever
but still
every time i see him
my lungs squeeze tighter
and i just wish he would kiss me
one more time
before forever comes

"I want to go home"
I think
As I sit in a school cafeteria
Clouds above and below my head
Sinking down into my own personal hellscape
My mire
My endless pit of open ended thoughts
"Am I good enough?"
I think that I surely am not
I've never been good enough for just about anyone

today i wanted to be perfect yesterday i wanted to be perfect i always want to be perfect but if i was perfect what would god be.

This is a letter
On what you did to me
How much of me you claimed
A lifetime of things
That nobody deserves
That I got anyway

I'd cast you out
If I really thought you'd go
But you won't
And I'm stuck with you
At least now I know
That this is not my fault
I don't have to go with you
You don't own
A sliver of my soul

You are nothing compared to me
To my blinding vibrancy
I am so much more
That what you -- I -- made me out to be
But at the end of the day
You aren't a part of me
We share the same space
But I will always be human
That's something you'll never be

Truth be told
I don't owe you anything
The hatred you grew in me
I've pulled out like weeds
If a lifetime of maintenance is what I need
Then I will grow my own garden
In place of what you made

Because I am beautiful
I am worthy
I will not live to die
There won't be one more wasted night
Trying to strangle out my life
I am so much more than you
You will never come that close
To winning again
I promise you that

So I'll go to the beach
In that skimpy bikini
While you thrash and writhe
In the back of my mind
Because every second proving you wrong
Is a second more of freedom

And I'll do what I want
I'll wear a dress to prom
Ask out that pretty girl
Face you head on
In the back of a car
With tears streaming down my face
Screaming to myself
That I am worth it
I am strong
I am more than you ever thought I was

This is a letter to you
Spelling out
The end of your reign
The gates have burned down
I'm gone now

Down and down I go this aisle with cart Oh hi man how are you? I’m fine that’s ‘ight and you I’m good thx yeah for me there someth? Oh yeah this here and this one pink envelope? well that’s from you know oh yes that’s one well fine okay have a good day yeah bye and off I go again for me? Yeah this I do not like him I try to keep him off my sight and mind but smile nice shirt oh yeah? just ironed well bye-bye pretentious ***** and phony also this is **** I should of said that next time sure for sure ensure the screech is pleasant to lubricate forgot après this finished howdy-rowdy for me smth no pardon c’est fine go by there’s really nothing poor old creep for him man’ years he here and not one sheet that’s triste but oh again this cramp should aim for loo ma’am après vous those thighs in nylon wiggle-waggle just like Bloom I am that day today but winter tho’ though onward batches envelopes and stamps hiya my mate how miles per day come forth that’s heyyy that is the one I yeahyeahyeah dumbf nonono he’s just like I like you like me obnoxious clown to grab and off this floor should be enough to from this height his gray to smash to mash this one is fine to smash to mash oh yuck this almost got me shhhhh
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Thump