Wednesday 10/18/2017 12:22:00 AM

the yellow thump of gratitude struggles. in the vague nausea of partially controlled intersections. the dichotomy of skin fails. as both a deterrant and a catalyst. the pandemonium of want. solves us before we can even begin to parse the math.

we're animals. alive at the corners. dead in the middle.

the maps are loud. the roads are deaf. no language. other than desire. the grim expectations of the wounded.

we find each other. between the raindrops. on the cusp of the wind. we play the game. as if winning is an option.

the distance measures us. in tungsten and sulfur. love our primitive time machine. and the years much too sober.

Friday 10/13/2017 01:30:00 AM

i saw only the particles. as the whole finally made impact. i argued with the intersection. as it shed its stories. in collisions and near misses.

the angles graceless. the speed without expectation. flesh only a form of momentum. thought just a pandemonium of choices.

it struck swiftly and without remorse. the timeline merely coincidence. the bruises sold their panic. all the volatile commodities of flesh. pressing their advantage.

there wasn't a number. distance just went on its way. and we tried to keep up.

it was far. corrupt epiphanies. seldom lovers.

we tried to convince the world.

we couldn't even convince ourselves.

Thursday 10/12/2017 10:33:00 PM

turn into the wind. wear the storm. in broken buckles and fraying knots.

say it's over. assert power. in sweat and bruises.

we're gone. alone in the panic. a template of flesh pungent with choices. all spent by the past. on expired time machines and placebo medicines.

we're fast. swift on the whims of our sickness. the rancid meat. the stale bread.  all of these blights making us rich.

leveraging the cure. like the perfect peasants that we are.

the world turns on empty fists. smaller now, than it's ever been. hopelessly corrupt.infinitely divided. 

we drown in our virtue. we suffocate in our righteousness. the poison is us.

Wednesday 10/04/2017 10:56:00 PM

parables of skin tell us. in hungry highways. and empty bridges. the distance tantamount. to our fetid  epiphanies. our little time machines can only take us so far.

practical flesh and hysterical connections. the epidemic of want eventually destroys us.

the turns betray. the miles infect. we're travellers always.of the worst kind. lacking the integrity of a destination. bitter hitchhikers on grace's desolate expanse.

how close we are. how far we've come. the dull razors upon which we dance.

the chemistry of when begins to laugh. but we've heard that joke before.

Thursday 9/28/2017 11:36:00 PM

portions of the constant. little fingers in the shadows. knot the sun. turn the light into puzzles we don't know how to solve.

it's always there.

when it's gone. we hardly notice.

we die quickly. drowning in our shallow puddles. suffocating in our empty closets.

leveraging each epiphany. like gold covered shit.

it's always ours. until it's not. and we go on. pretending. eventually it will be.

it's always there. until isn't.

voices crumble. a sudden castration of grief. skin breaks. a perfect execution of fragility.

stubborn ghosts sewing pockets into their sheets. to carry all the things they've lost.

Sunday 9/17/2017 02:59:00 AM

the wounds closed. flesh grew over the bandages. yellow skin and purple bruises counting backward from our edges.

we were spent. the cold arithmetic of anticipation. deep cuts wearing our blood on the outside.

the humble of disease. fickle gods gambling in the dichotomy of our loyalties.

inside the hurricane rages. while the center remains motionless.

faded colors reveal us in small eruptions of want. the road chokes on our progress. as hungry as it is long. we're passengers in our skin.

there's only the distance. a broken mirror. surrounding us on all sides. a thousand jagged pieces desperate for connection.

all the random shadows. as the sky tumbles inside us. all our choices. like wet cement. destroying the illusion. that we're going somewhere.

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