Why write? Why pretend to be a bird, when your beauty couldn’t compare- a moonlight tired of shining for the ones that neglect it, or an American soldier lost in a desert longing for his morality to purify him. Why fight? Why reach to hold the hand of your brother to be let go from the resentment of another- buy a piano as furniture, or a wife or husband. We meant more to each other than...
By The Bye
By the goodbyes of the everyday lot lives a brick of sickening obsession. I hate the people that surround me. I love the idea of what they could mean to me, and hate what they do.
The pleasure of the beach helps me sleep. We lay in bed naked and dream about the maids that will take care of our children some day. We want the world to weigh upon our shoulders because it works the knees. We need the challenge of ignorance to fuel our suicidal passions, like the perfect woman known to be too good true.
The world in my head will never be. I will never be the me inside my head. My head is not me. My head is an image of a world that will never be.
A grand hand to drop. The bag of sand is my head; each grain is a pound of hot thought. Think that all hands find a ring to wear. Think that and know that.
If the perfect man fled, than the whole philosophy of perfection flees with him. If the brain worked hard enough, then some day, there won’t be a need to. My work is an inconvenience to many.
Wide Open Legs of Female Earth
The blue floats above me and sparkles sparkle within it. I see things that don’t exist to the rest of the world. The rest of the world doesn’t exist to me when I see what I see. I see my body working itself. I see me in all. A jubilee of free pussy for me and me.
Get the gesture. Get the porn. Get the effort. Get the fetish. Get the honor. Get the trouble. Get the former.
Loud Music Fears Fierce Dogs
Everyone fears the reality that has roused them. Everyone fears what history has built for them. Why should we be our own plagues? Because we have nothing better to be.
What would I be without my dick? Would I be less an observer than a piece? I see the world from a looking glass, not through application.
In Brooklyn Late
I’m looking for something the world can never give me. A blissful dance built and produced like a fast food fry. I don’t ignore the apathy. I don’t pretend the drugs will help me forget.
No, we didn't steal from Boulder, Colorado! But... →
The vodka drinkers drink their vodka ‘till they vomit, and the sweet smells smell so sweet. Vertigo has got a way to go before it starts to make an impact on me. The weather is nice under this sheet of ice. I guess I loved you, but it doesn’t feel that way.
Only magic can break my binds.
I want to feel New York City.
Felt Within You
Thinking of changing my body into something my mind cannot. The worst decision I’ve made in a long time: fucking you tucked under an unconscious mind.
Felt Within You
Thinking of blowing my body up before you and watch you smile. Bursts of colors will vibrate and fill the sky. I will show you what is inside, lord Jesus Christ.
As I begin to appreciate more the days, the days begin to appreciate me less.
The fire burned an entire field. I felt fear until I saw that it was a controlled fire. I rolled on.
No artist appreciates themselves and the decisions they make. Wake in the wake of a bellowing quake.
No reason to create art. No reason to write a song. No reason to pretend the world can distinguish a difference.
Gay And Frayed
Nothing to say.
The state of mind the month can put you in and the state of mind a tone of voice can put you in; leaves you a shell.