LoveThat’sNever beenTasted Is [Probably]Still Delicious. Meanwhile, You can: Pass theBottle BackAndForth, MaybePierce theCork; Even, [light gasp]Open it.. ..For aLittle. Enjoy your SweetA-roma LikeIt’s theOnly thingYou have. Share Your EmptyGlasses. Make aToast to Sobriety From each Other; Forever Drinking your a-part. Continue reading Like a Fine Wine
If you knewwhat’s goodfor ya You’d Coveryour Eyes,Mouth,and Ears, WashYourHands, And StaySixFeetA Part; Cause,baby, He’llrob yerYears. ———— IncaseYou wereWondering, “His last‘Girlfriend’ Was like,‘Totally crazy…’”; “She,‘That Bitch’Even Tried toKill Him! Parts of HimAre still withHer, But luckily,He foundYou Now…”. ——- He spitsHimself Into your mouth,So Delicately. “He couldn’tPossiblyBe harmful,” You’ll thinkTo yourself… But, therehe goes; DiggingIn yourdermis. ———— Don’t foolYourself, He won’tHesitate To SwimRound yourRespirateThoughtless; setting … Continue reading The half-dead Parasite is Codependent.
was the name. the year, 2012. “if they fuck that stab hole I’m gonna lose it,” he breathed out redundantly with strained pants. — 2017 – another mutual friend run-in. she sits down at the four-seater table with tonights bunch. naturally, he sits in the chair next to her. she sips her whiskey, balancing herself. “have you all seen that new occult crime show on netflix?” … Continue reading August Post Mortem
The pull we did not have to try it was automatic. a cycle; repeated, normalized, self-sustaining. no one asks magnets if the cold slap of each other hurts on impact. we know pain we’ve felt when we see it. — #DiscoverWP Automatic Continue reading automatic: daily prompt
he’s got these women he weaves in and out like shift work. never touching, always brushing forces Uncommunicably; filling the gaps his miserable lonliness awake he can’t bare to face. son of god, trapped on that fabricated temple of entertainment, never wanting to be bothered on your time. says it’s easier to fall asleep with a body nearby, be it special or unimpressive. spits out … Continue reading tightly woven
been at this fork for so long ive been setting off flares for my own entertainment any emergency vehicle nice enough to respond i wave on “the infection in this little ol’ cut simply is not serious enough for your concern please, let me sit with it a little while longer it’s all i know anymore” — Continue reading flares
I was taught love was the wrong details of an oil painting. — the image: a blanket wrapped around a stranger in a desert night, desperately trying to keep warm by a fire. — I was taught the only way for anyone to love me was for them to light me ablaze stack of kindling Destroyed by lover’s presence. — I longed for that feeling. … Continue reading blanket beats fire