my other account [link]


apathetic//apathetic
when all you have, is the faint luminescent urban lighting with its' insectile hum and the faint thunder of society roaming across these barbaric concrete plains, to lead you; who can really blame you for getting so lost?
all I have is simple words whispers of dead men and poets really their fragmented wisdom finds entrance through shivering pupils
Are we really young? to have suffered through such indignities I can just see your stuttering lips proclaiming that it was just a phase, clutch this pulsating


slow burn//slow burn
I lost my voice screaming at the little word magnets adorning my tongue they are refusing to stick and choking on my words has never hurt more
I caught myself time and time again weary eyes and shaking hands telling myself to keep trudging along that I will make something of myself yet
steam runs off my forehead the remnants of a cold spring rain wander across my reaching hands why is it I cannot find what I feel I am meant to find?
I feel ugly a crude caricature of that purple and yellow striped 12 arm


fallacyI sent you a package thick waxy paper with little secrets seeping tongue, brain the usual horrific cliches all with that iconic red bow I can just taste your false regretfallacy
let these little words run right off your resistant paper minuscule reminders tiny inky legs running right off your hands a literary death per say one composite puddle of black goo no worries just my metaphoric heart running into your clear glass windows with the aplomb of a wayward pigeon feathers to tickle the fancy of your idiocy
nothing to worry about
smoking fish

dictionary and trip to the seaThe sink is clogged with asterixes - fool, you're supposed to rinse the kettle before just sloshing the whole damndictionary and trip to the sea
pale-blue mess down.
The dishes are corroded with semicolons, the apostrophes are spilling from the chipped, pastel mugs.
It's all going to get caught in the filter,
anyway, he yells, the flicking of his tin lighter like typewriter keys down the hall.
The towels are gasping, wincing, with their wrinkled terry-cloth tongues; when I sink into the scummy tub
for a soak later, they'll still be
whispering about his hullabulloo.


Time's Absence Chapter 1I threw myself out of bed, gasping for air. Shuddering in fear at something I couldn’t quite remember, I knelt beside my bed trying to steady myself. Slowly, the sound of the wind chimes hung in front of my window started to calm me. My mother had hung the soothing silver chimes on a tree near my bedroom window back when I was a just a little girl plagued with nightmares. They hadn’t failed to calm my terrors, then. I’d brought them with me when I moved out as a matter of course. They were my safety, my serenity, and sometimes I could swear, my soul. Now was no diffeTime's Absence Chapter 1


C'est ElectriqueWhen we touch in the white light of your window in the bright sight of your mirror our bodies hum with current flow energy envelops and levitates us heat swells in mounds muscles curvesC'est Electrique
Across town radios crackle cars slow grannies shiver and reach for sweaters their power sucked away like sizzling syrup when we connect
I miss you..
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Dammit, monster, I ain't givin you no treefiddy!
"That fact has not created in me a sense of obligation."
Sir, Do you exist?
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"I took a deep breath and listened to the old bray of my heart. I am. I am. I am."
--Sylvia Plath
____________________________
--
my other account [link]
teehee!
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The Matchbox Twent Madness Contest has begun!
For details and updated prize listings, go here: [link]
BTW, I'm now a senior admin for *TheWritersMeow
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my other account [link]
teehee!
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