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01 April 2015 @ 12:53 am
Venomous visions, intrinsically hidden.
The surgeons inversions were hurting the virgins.
Of course the vortex has corpses and more sex, and more guns, and more drugs, and more booze to drive to.
To sing to. To die to. 2 bottles deep on I-5 dude. Our cultures the vulture that picks from our bones.
Its once again that season to reason through poems.
Scents of sentinel sentences, repetitive endlessness, more words for the fire, the finest apprenticeship.
10 November 2014 @ 04:44 pm
I want to get so sick.
Blackness take away my breath.
25 October 2014 @ 03:41 pm
poison autumn
but my queen is still alive to shape the unborn
enough for today, enough for any day.

these column's rise up beyond sight
and then smash you
to pieces.

Your symbols are crap
your words are worse
go take a sleep
with the worst nurse
15 July 2014 @ 09:39 pm
To all of you on the edge of an abyss, who can feel yourself dying:

Take the plunge to witness self, and i swear you will find you are flying.
09 July 2014 @ 02:15 pm
I finally fell apart. However, i didn't drink or smoke cigarettes so at least there's that. Writing every day is not writing every other day. Days without meditation are an abominable loss for sentient beings.

All Dragons and serpents curl around these oaken legs, these leaden colossi...
Bloody things scream as they do, soon their whorls of panic will all revolve around me.
Singing my praises as they circle the drain of relevance.

Nothing will fix this but work... empires of crusty pus hidden, ghosts in every windows reflection. As it should be.
04 July 2014 @ 03:23 pm
THere is a bad guy everywhere i turn but i won't let that change me into more of a hater then i already am.
19 June 2014 @ 04:30 pm
get a note from the dentist tomorrow dude!
You are awesome, like the tv show blossom.
09 June 2014 @ 12:49 pm
Westertown in unhappy again. Dusty, overcrowded streets. The Pigs all cough. Lines are long everywhere, getting to work takes a day +, the morgue is a many month journey.

The sun bubbles and drips through the sky, never quite static, never in quite the same place. Its light barely reaches the earth, all heat comes from the heat in the middle of town, under the streets, the forevercorpse barely down to rest.

I centered several sentences on this senselessness and quickly lost my breath / breadth and wept.
All puppies were with me then, their skulls painted with dour faces.
24 May 2014 @ 03:19 pm
6 days. Torrent of disgust. Leftover for temptation. Nothing is more sacred than anything else.

Revulsion in the mirror. Tired of talking to people, tired of worrying about money.
This is a day where good acts feel meaningless.

I lied about living with intent. Preference of all sorts, but cant get themselves sorted out. Everything feels so distasteful.
11 May 2014 @ 03:06 pm
Pretty birdy, you're trough is too close to your middens.

Bumblebreech badguys close in. O what are we to do?

Sing a song of no dopamine, like every damn day.

Push when i grind out... when will i learn that. Sure doesnt work with sex.