My life is a series of quick ups and downs, moments of fleeting confidence and love, abysmal depths of insecurity Sometimes I smile just basking in the warm sun in just being me, enjoying being me I laugh Sometimes I fade The ground I walk on is not constant I feel it drop into black beneath me when I need it but by then I don’t feel the need to want it I let myself sink Sometimes the clouds in front of my eyes clear, sometimes I’m okay being alone sometimes I obsess sometimes I don’t think at all I just want clarity and creativity, sun and magic, clouds and a breeze, the moon, the sky I want strength and breath, I want peace of mind but I want FIRE I want RED I need to awaken a me that is sleeping, dormant but always there, behind a front of fear or something else I am sending out words that are true(as true as words can be)How can I be true in this world and know what is right? How can I be as true as this page? How can I be as true as this book?
Giantess dream a spectacular female vision skin of bruised mauve thighs to crush a neck, you hunch gracelessly and seduce by your size, your strange sensuality; your puckered skin grotesque but tactile, a curious hand would reach.
Run a hand over the length of your landscape, Woman.
I found you in a wall, ghost I found you in a wall, shrouded I saw a cyan shadow, I saw a cyan shadow through the wall.
I loved you in the flesh, ghost Though I loved you I loved you not You put me in a wall, Black was your shadow through the wall. - - — - - - — - - - — - - Now through layers of trees and fog, mist traces two figures of vague dreamt lovers half-known and experienced, Accumulating events, implied.
put me away. put me away show me a face. go away show me a dream face a dreamt face.
the black is silken soft the black is censored soft like me like you like that touch censored soft like this hand on here this hand on me there- is no hand put me somewhere else somewhere red and moist put me in a party put me in a wall put me in the lively dirt put me in the wall where I stand rigid with nude eyes put me there where I become gaunt my toes hit the wall my nose grows into it put me in the wall with her make me her I’m here I’m numb I’m zoned my hand is red it’s zoned it’s connected it’s doing this my mind speaks and !!!!!!!!!!! The excitement dies.
I’m shuffling running into things I’m shuffling running into things What do you see? Soft boots on dust/white floors, shuffling running into things What do you see? Soft boots on dust/white floors, shuffling running into things
What do you see? Sharp turn of black coat/fanned hair, shuffled girl powdered in motion shuffling, running into things
There’s this thing that happens to me on road trips where, on the brink of sleep or waking I have these daydreams so vivid so lucid so plastic
colors, patterns play on the darks of my closed eyelids shifting, complex, bell-clear and neon-bright they turn and change, smooth color transitions as the trees pass me through the window bright green and pixellated on an 8-bit feild of vast sunshine in the warm light a cartoon bear downs a beer and things continue to transition and morph strangely while I’m fully conscious of it all as it plays for me I’m not sure if I can influence it but I don’t want it to end it makes me happy it makes me happy to be alive.
I do not trust this cold hand after previous imaginings of a faces fade-in breaking darkness down into something else.
My arm crooks around a corner. Cold. The corner of my eye something was there.
I’m sorry,i’m soury ha ha not, for what? you’re everywhere I look and touch now in every sliver of shade in the deepest black your pixels can form and organic you seem you are? I’m sorry I’d paint you but you’re not so pretty to look at I have felt your hand,cold, and you have not responded it drops, a thud to the carpet, soft on soft, thud.
Now the lights are on(sort of) but you’re not there, cold one.
the holes on the ceiling tiles thats all i dont like the holes on the ceiling tiles thats all i dont like im alone but above me footsteps fall hear that sound on nearby street of strange person in strange city going somewhere strange
the wind blows through the cracks the power fluctuates barely noticed i can move my eyes i can move my pen i can fill my lungs with air