#josh
My mother said they say the dead are blessed
but i don't think so,
i wake to my dream's afterimage overlaying
the ceiling;i stay laid in place
envisioning myself
gorged in holy water, purging away any memory
hitherto
but that's just not the way it goes;
Sat here as the vinyl needle scratches the same
scabs,as a tired revolver—
leaks **** of sound,thick repitidous clouds which
lead to nowhere and nothing—
a bored, ambient crackle,
In the poetic spirit, it reeks of home
but reminds me I am I, alone
And in the conversing-sense
it gives me a ******* migraine,
it was one of W—’s favourites
when it's tune was still entact
But alas, it is what it is, outside is a world
i've grown too sore to mingle in
(dare i say a multiform delirium where
it's both too typical and too unpredictable
((daren't i blame another reason?)))
Regardless,i'll stay inside another day
and skim and retrace the life that brought us here
to **** the time.
If nothing else.
Aug 12, 2019
Aug 12, 2019 at 2:52 PM UTC
Somebody Take Me
by Ryan P. Kinney and J.M. Romig
You shook me up
And poured out my mind
Cooked me ‘til I crystallized
Crushed me up and smoked me
You got high on my experiences
Took my stories into your body
You loved it
Then the bad trip came crashing in
The heartbreaks, the beatings,
The suicidal thoughts
I made you paranoid, cynical, and distrusting
Every loss peppered with a smile
Each warm, glowing moment
Tainted with the debauchery of the act
You’ll pay for all this in rehab
Blood and tears diluted with stale coffee and ****** cigarettes
(They all taste the same)
Go ahead, Detoxify.
Spit me out
No matter how you try to purge
You’ll never be rid of this poison
Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 11:51 PM UTC
He is good.
He suprises me with how good he really is.
He makes me,
well,
happy.
Can you believe it?
Sometimes I can't.
He loves me.
This
panamourous,
gender fluid,
mermaid.
pagan,
creature
that I am.
I didn't really think that was possible.
Not because I am not deserving of love.
Just that I am different.
He loves my different.
He is in love with my different.
Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 8:11 PM UTC
Jigsaw
by J.M. Romig, Amanda Whitlock, and Ryan P. Kinney
The first time I watched a man die
It wasn’t a man anymore, they told me
Just like my mother wasn’t my mother anymore
I will never forget the wrong answer
And the empty hours
When the minute hand was always longer
I often welcome sleepwalking through most of the week
In the few instances the machines malfunction
I curse being awakened
I don’t see how anyone
Can smoke at a time like this
When the air is so heavy
It’s like breathing cement
I’m in stressed and panicked misery
And I’m vomiting
Lots and lots of stuff
That stretches vast
And expands to eat up everything
The guilt of my sin
The heft of your innocence
Weighs heavily on my soul
As i drag you down with me
Her lit cigarette burns
So brightly from the porch
Against the darkness
It reminds me of a lighthouse
Or a bug zapper
And what is that moth doing there anyways?
People are trying to sleep
Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 1:24 PM UTC
Dos personas con pelos rubios
Una niña y un hombre
Caminando en la biblioteca
Un beso en el piso
¿Buscando para que conocen?
El amor, sí el amor
Nieve nieve
No puede devolver en casa
Duerme en esta cama
Nieve nieve
Películas del gobiernos argentino y Iran
Te amo te amo
Escuchando de josh pyke
Tocarías la guitarra y piano
Comiendo la pasta de tus manos
El vino, más besos
El mar, nadar
Ríes
España
Llorando
Y entonces
Ahora
Jul 15, 2014
Jul 15, 2014 at 4:38 AM UTC