With everything that’s happening with the police right now, I thought I’d share some stories, starting with this one.
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I’d love to hear it, and/or share with others.
I’m in a erie area where hands to necks belong to magazines with low batteries waiting to fall, and the dust I own screams from the stomach of “The All” with its wit inside a loosely tied navy knot. Dinosaur teas going bananas over rays of Vietnamese cups of wifi that will only say bye-bye eat good karma in hopes of receiving a green cross at the wall of pandas. While the irony in silicone is that we’ve stumbled more than some in tech, and our goal is far fetched with a bad case of strep throat waiting to be pet with vertigo spells.
With my tongue to concrete, and callus to the brain – I freeze.
What are you doing?
Hawaii, where leaving tastes like cancelations and time turns into a photo like the day the apples fell and my dandelion wine came up. Clouds are burgundy with quotes waiting to be taken by the hand to join the soy language online, and chewing closes the window on the hallway opening up for you to hold hope. Don’t mind the rain, don’t mind the walk – and leave the lava on the island.
Pour out my lifeline’s wine
Here’s a toast to the ghost that told me that it was all inside my life’s mind
Bang your head against the sky and you can own that
Everything else is just noise, and you can coin that
Turn on, tune in, drop out – do what you want homie
But I’ll still hustle for supper, fuck if the world knows me
Who is this?
The same cat that doesn’t even have a pen to write up a wish list
I’m a creature of the wind, an angel with a blindfold
Shine like the moon on the water, plus my mind’s gone
Life’s a ride, grip to her rails
Write your vows on a rug and pin them on her coattails
Say happy trails, to say the least
Reach now, or forever hold your grief
I’m just a piece of the puzzle, muzzled with puddle that I struggle with
More like an ocean of emotions, still I love this shit
red dawn alert queen, i beg of you, take us to the crackle of it all with a side of cinnamon
“don’t make me live”, she shakes under her breath
she’s metal flesh and gooey inside
but it sings me to shivers, the silence in between
as i’m writing like a crack, stale and full of emptiness
pale and pondering, behold the magic of madness
look over her left shoulder, the world is crumbling
look over her right, a lotus is blossoming within a black hole
her arms have turned into violent rivers pouring into the the sour soil of sorrows
and her chest is full of flames while standing on legs made of wings
just feather this thought for some fly imagery
a ghost girl, made of dirt inside a room of water trying to peel a tree of life says:
“please, i’m dry and dusty with tangled misunderstandings”
standing there, she demands that i play paint and picasso the simple
“i can’t ask you to do that”
then what are we here for, if not that?
you push, i’ll pull