Thursday 1/10/2019 11:16:00 PM

the edge was ours. a gorgeous temptation. we curdled in gravity's grin. mirrors in the darkness. envying the moon.

the pendulum tumbled. time was ours again. we devoured all its broken candy and sour milk. hungry still.

the air shook. we named the monsters after ourselves. wool faces scratching at tomorrow's glass. plastic teeth chewing on yesterday's neck.

lies run. the truth limps.

we wanted both, but one was all we were permitted.

the moments arrived on crutches. and each one we tried to heal.

but the sickness was the bulk of us. without it we were nothing.

Monday 12/31/2018 11:30:00 PM

the hour pulls on the small stitches that the hold the edge. time turns sour. memory tries to sweeten it. skin like honey. touch like vinegar. we fumble with the balance.

the winter whispers. the cold coos.

tomorrow auctions our flesh as yesterday gnaws on our bones.

we throw our poison into the boxes. and ponder what might be dead. we tally the intersections. and try to imagine where we're going.

we count the days. the years. attempting to mend. it's the needle that facilitates. but it's the thread that resolves the holes.

the miles melting under our gait. more arithmetic than epiphany. more dandruff than poetry. the biology betrays. the physiology confounds.

still our hearts remain tissue paper. even as our skin turns to stone.

Sunday 12/23/2018 11:50:00 PM

yellow clouds press the blue ones. it was gone again. that devious fever of euphoria and salt. we were weighted by touch. and now the knot had failed. time bit down hard. and our moment was over.

the wind labored. shuffling our ghosts. accepting our wagers. we were just on the verge of too young. tramping our stories. discarding our heavy compasses. content to wander.

the pavement hummed. the air was feverish. pleasure shook us. we threw our moments. stones that danced briefly over the surface.before disappearing below.

the wind paused. the cold sighed. the empty refrain of paper dolls. wearing the sun like lipstick. dancing on the pinheads of our hope.

we chased the horizon. stumbling over our the crumbling bridges of our own construction.

the con was long. we gathered our funerals and our nooses. and made our way toward the exit. we met the sum in pieces. skin and bone boasting equations it could not solve. epiphanies lingering. as the lights dimmed. on empty stages. and torn curtains.

measuring the dark in filament and friction. drowning in the chemistry of want.

flesh and long division draw the maps. but it's touch that shows us where we are.

12/16/2018 12:42:00 AM

time trembled. a stray on our doorstep.the math was arrogant. gravity was restless.

the whole thing is just dots. we're meant to connect. a simple jigsaw of skin. disjointed pictures. hollow eyes. blunted crayons.

the colors long gone. the clock still counting.

the miles accumulate. a powerless wealth we spend on wooden limbs. we run. charming the horizon with threats of victory. plastic soldiers with paper bullets. fighting in a war no one can win.

the slap of the sun. the choke of the wind. as gravity bites down hard.

we're just bones. hungry for flesh. a severity of circumstance. as the hours polish their weapons.

12/09/2018 11:33:00 PM

the road surrendered. as we ran uphill in the wake of gravity's limp. its throne vacant. its power erased. we danced. ribbons on the tail of time's kite. hanging on by loose knots. laughing at the wind in our eyes.

artists. each breath a brushstroke. messiahs. martyrs in skin's epiphanies.

if it wasn't when, it would've been how. the questions that color our lips. the choices that construct our bridges. from bone and panic.

i could name them, but the metaphors are more elegant. i could say it hurt, but it really didn't. we're all thieves. taking more than we give.

the distance swallows. gravity chokes. our hunger defines us. even as our endurance persists.

12/02/2018 12:45:00 AM

the thief sighed. disappointed by how easy the crime was. the map tore. but lost had already been and gone.

the rain decided to fall. all pity and determination in a cyclone of skin. it's not a story until someone's been defeated. and someone else has won.

a mosaic of blood sorts the flesh that we can spare. we pretend to listen as circumstance drowns out our voices. time's stubborn con men and life's manic metabolism.

tomorrow stumbled. more fists than feet. we were there. had been. the walls still stood. it was the ceiling that was missing. we were painting in the dark. building mountains with twigs. as fast as we ran. yesterday remained ahead.

the distance folded. the small cuts festered. the end sharpened its blade. but the hunt was already over.

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