last seen at the brink of the abys… screaming at god laughing at the devil and smoking loose tobacco dark eyes and burnt skin
human beings are animals and we should absolutely celebrate that when we are hungry
to reach for the pen only when you need it is a mistake you must reach for it everyday eventually it grows familiar with…
let’s say you’re trying to go somewhere who isn’t? but let’s say you never get there
visceral were the nights we stood… each of us armed with an instrumen… and hearts that beat like tempos we put on a show but we weren’t put-ons
i don’t believe anything i read unless it’s a poem
after it blows out your last match it goes to a bar and laughs over whiskey telling the story of the look on y…
we can wear the morning air like a jacket and move deep into those bright
in one kiss four lips translate all the languages of the world into a story none of us understand
right at that age where she is lea… like a cynical fox taking guarded… in the forest still looks for someone she doesn’… but knows it is because she believ…
there she was again in my dreams last night perhaps it is faulty programming a virus or malware but for whatever reason
that moment right after you’ve finished readin… when the mind gets to digest and what Jeffers referred to as “The honey of peace”
slippery bars make it hard to hold… captive against your will always lathered in the sweat of es… you elude any sentence
it is not just missing the good times slamdancing in a circle pit with your best buds at a rock show blacklit basement parties
there once was a drop of water misplaced in the ocean that was meant for something more never belonging with other drops lost at sea
