Sweet shit.

Or at least I think so..

Just Sharing.

You make meals of my words
& my eyes while we're wilting.

BLU

Love's Disease

I plant you beneath the oaks
to linger through my words..
lost in the insects that constantly eat me.
& i've managed,
somehow,
to have never seen your leaves before they brown.

Ferris Wheel

i pace a lot in my sleep

because my tendency to placate
runs so deep.
i tend to open doors
that i've already walked through before
& left behind.

i'm not sure
what i'm going through
at the moment.
i move from one story
of my life
to the next
with very little time
to reflect.

if only people were mirrors.
i still see myself in you all.
i'm just not sure
what i look like anymore
from the outside
where they gander.

can one love habitually?
& if so, is that a bad thing?
there are two sides
to every hand though.
so we have a choice
between the fist
& the open palm.

...yet all I really want
is to be the one that,
despite all the psychosis,
prevails in knowing the side of them
that can't be known.

Fallen Art

Blah blah bleh.. blahbah blah.