Wednesday 7/10/2019 11:48:00 PM

life infects us. burrowing deep into our skin. our bodies become stories we tell. pictures we trace.

we come. we go. empty pendulums. chewing the sweet moments down to raw bone. the meat long gone. the hunger still adamant.

we run. we pause. hollow bowls bereft of nourishment.

we hunt. we kill. but the flesh is rotten. the bread is stale.

we argue. we debate. with all the lies we've let ourselves believe. but the truth never yields.

the pebbles fall. on the soil. on the water. each one finding its own depths to penetrate. the stone scratches. scraping the grass. shearing the pavement. each stroke shaping the flow of the next. small frictions multiplying in the broad stokes of time's unrelenting ballet.

we drag these heavy zippers behind us. they open. and we spill out. an emotional hernia. they close.biting down. gnawing off the lingering pieces.

we shed these skins. stripping down to just the skeleton. exhausted from the weight of it.

Monday 7/01/2019 11:33:00 PM

the distance stutters. stumbling over itself. the horizon gasps for air. as the edge of the world approaches. the center comes into sharper focus.

we ease through corners and curves. only to get lost in the straights.

counting out loud. tying knots in the ropes meant to save us.

these animals. these creatures inside our flesh. growl and pace inside their cages. resenting release.

the world ends with every breath. but the bones remain. exposed and desperate.

the apocalypse is real. it happens every day.

the moments dwindle. a vacancy of words. telling us in a series of sparks that never flame.

there's no fire, but everything is ashes.

6/24/2019 11:35:00 PM

the road takes us. we run as far as we can. trembling and lost. eyes shut. bridges burning. the past sprinting beside us. as we fail to keep up

it's only beautiful when we let it be. it's only ugly when we insist. perception devours everything we are. until only the skeleton remains.

the hierarchy of skin evolving. as we suffocate on time. the sweat of the stop signs spoiling the distance. as we find our legs. embracing the gap between then and now.

the void names our voices. weak as they are. broken strings on helium balloons. drifting off  into the atmosphere to die. the struggle colors us in. like the hollow outlines we've let ourselves become.

it's an ugly transition. this sober choice. as the miles tell us we're done. but our journey has other plans.

we're not alive unless there's blood or panic. we're not real unless we're wounded. the stairs lead up, but the doors are locked.

it's close until it isn't. it's loud until we forget how to hear. we go everywhere. and nowhere. our internal maps frail and inaccurate.

the clouds stall. we wait for the rain to fall. but we've been drowning for years.

Thursday 6/13/2019 11:41:00 PM

where were we when the end was spent. fretful beggars counting the holes in our socks. as the distance devoured the last of our resolve.

how close was the sun when we let our eyes shut. negotiating the darkness in narrow percentages. selling  hours for minutes with the drug. stabbing the wind with empty syringes. dragging tomorrow behind us. as we struggled to reach surface.

gravity mortgaged our bones. on the miles we had accumulated. flesh weighed us down. a sickly cloak. we quickly discarded.

time is a thief. all poison tentacles and rotted joints. truth is a monster. hiding in our closet.

we can't be saved. we can only survive the assault.

we needed to run. to chase those ghosts. we never imagined how far it would take us.

Saturday 6/08/2019 12:30:00 AM

the wind paused. a muscle contracted. a nerve pinched. the cold sighed. exhaling our expectations. stomping over our crumbling bridges.

the con was long. though the payoff short. we found the sun in pieces. skin and bone boasting equations it could not solve. epiphanies lingering. as the lights dimmed and lips chapped. waiting on the whims of the clock.

shallow cuts. little blood. but the scars persist.

we measure the dark in filament and worry. counting the minutes to changes that rarely come.

we know each other in pencils and long division. the numbers are patient as we flirt with the end. travellers without a destination. weapons looking for a war.

perspective means seeing  how all lines eventually intersect.

Thursday 6/06/2019 11:51:00 PM

someone said it quietly, though its nature was loud. pigtails on the scarecrow danced in the rain. choice shifted. truth evolved. we were tired of constantly searching for all the things we'd long ago found.

ink on the margins. spit in the bucket. tongues on the light switch. arranging their grief by the skew of atoms.

we danced. on the the rim of the world. waiting to fall.

the colors buzzed. all adrenalin and naked epiphanies. our voices mingled. bending. refracting. against the pivots of condition. fragile bridges struggling to govern the depths between then and now.

the storm was brief, but powerful. we confronted gravity with leaden skin. a catastrophe of expectations. as the heft of our want defeated our grip.

someone whispered. i could barely hear. but i knew the words. they'd always been there. waiting for someone to listen.

she broke the words. they crumbled like candy. a sweetly suffocating avalanche of needing what isn't ours.

a staircase in her chest. a fishhook in her memory. cataloging all the blunt metaphors that turn sharp. make us bleed.

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