like smoke, your words consume the wind. blindly reaching out– grasping in desperation. like embers, your words pulse in insecurity. heat madly sparking– failing to ignite. like ash, your words cling to life’s dust. what once raged, is now forgotten– wasted fire on fire’s own insecurity.
the problem with hope is that you don’t know it’s false until you’ve hoped too much the problem with hope is that it paints such an amazing picture in your head but it actually turns out to be a bunch of stick figures and scribbles the problem with hope is…
(when foolishly seeking illusive and mythic beasts) open your hands to catch your breath (dropping pain from memory) Peel away skins of bitterness and layer on freckled vulnerability. build pyres of looming specters, only to shred them for…
tick tick tick the ticking (always ticking) of the clock and its seconds the seconds winding their way around and Inside out the mulberry bush the seconds wound me round the neck the clock just in time to hear it mock in constant consternation, the consistent continuation of night’s suffocation…
Good intentions, they say, pave the road to hell. Good intentions, they say, are meaningless. Your intentions, they say, are meaningless. Your meaningless, they say, and on the road to hell. I disagree. They who are ambivalent litter the devil’s highway with apathetic proverbs and carefully crafted phrases tinged with…
i see you. every movement towards sunrise, I notice. every movement towards lost, my heart skips. even now, as you walk -until- stumble (and stumble until walk again) i see you. Once,(upon a time) when you were a baby, 16-years-ago (that long ago) i promised i would not ever ,no…
