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SubscriptionsSites I Read
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| sparks fly in a new direction. what we thought we knew, but we never kept it. it isn't like a friendship to need water and natural sunlight to grow. but under the circumstances winter leaves love dry. the thick tires against the icy pavement, swirling in mountains grooves. friendly faces. i regret, how things are not different at all. so seldom we recycle the renegades of our past, to become keen to fashion. receptive to social cues. where did you grow? silicone bodies and skin smoothed to touch, you never wear your hair down now. diverged and separated, a fragment thought through time. someone i use to know, is someone i use to love.
i milk my optic nerve to retrace memory of you. i see galaxies in my mind, past pending future tense. tingling darkness, dimming like cut cords. but too much three dimensional space lingers in my heart, in my head. there is no place for me in your world. i think i prefer it. but if i ever want to read your mind again oh, i will.
i cant help you i cant help myself. | | |
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when you think of freedom it's of your body. healthy, wealthy, but none the wiser. while deprecating others, i've taken toll to myself. where is the sense in longing for something when i loathe in its wake and whine in it's absence. these months have caused me to be a bore, tedious and idle. my soul is the devils play ground. the same image is projected a thousand times on shiny glossy screens. impressed by, experienced by, felt by. living through technicolor and bent glass. today is another day, i lost it. but i am fickle flesh to the glamorous.
you have our attention, you can put your clothes on now. by the thousands they'll tell you they love you, how you're beautiful, but you mean nothing. isn't that something? the whore is a phallic symbol. the harlot can never play the cards and become a queen. your past will haunt and invade your efforts. first impressions are always correct, and stereotypes are time savers. thank you for the good time, spineless fish. you've realized what is important but you've given all your love away by now.
not a caged bird singing, but a free bird humming silently. what is in my mind, it's none of your concern. recollecting dust on the idea, "motivation" it just ain't me babe. you want what i can be when i am lonely but i am occupied. i have no time to flatter you or pretend, it's time to divide, and by what.
molecules, dopamine, cigarettes, "LOL".
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that warped sound you can still hear in silence is the natural beating of your circadian clock. it's each moment passing and if you stop to feel it being ripped away from you, it's the only time you'll ever feel unlucky and lucky all at once. when all the lifeless and living things stop making noises, my body screams in rhythm to my internal clock. blood splashing against the walls of my veins. i feel a pulse all over my body. the hours shatter like glass, i hear commotion in my bones. fear of silence is developed from the feeling that time is being stolen from me, minutes are being replaced as something else. it must recycle itself. last weeks seconds may be grains of sand under your feet. and hours turn to fires, setting forests in california to smoke and ash. reincarnation of those lapsed periods of time. long lost and forgotten.
you liked my analogies for time so we stopped to talk awhile. nothing left to discus, my lucid dreaming and your trust you misplaced in my hands. i'm sorry, i'm sorry, but i don't always come back. night bird, jail bird, love birds. it's becoming a different game with age, no upper hands and who needs who the worst, i just want someone to prove me wrong. it's a horse race, the turn abouts are in the past, i don't need power anymore. it's all about gambling the outcome with predictions. just pieces of your mind. we laid on our backs and made pictures from the smoke in the dark. "that one kind of looks like north america" i fell in love with you again.
all the times for my mind to truly escape me, and it's gone with the wind. poor light source and posture, i never sit up straight anymore. straining to see. my fingers fumble. i guess instead of a writer, i'm a free thinker. mind brew brain stew? we think we're so funny. too much confidence. no longer the same brain. just changes. i watch the dust collect to the spoons. no thanks, i'm not hungry. maybe you forgot you had a stomach. i don't realize how clever the minds can be, under dressed and estimated. you told me everyone was just a little interesting. no one living can bare to be boring.
he takes too much concentration, no time for secrets. companion ships, relation ships, we've just been sailing through months this way. i look up thinking it's april, but no sir it's past may. nothing breaks or changes. i don't even feel sick or about to implode. brain damaged. talking to the ghosts. suckin' that lifeless jelly marrow from my bones. you live how you have to, you save what you need to. let's call it cat, and blame the road for changing me. months i spent lost face first in atlas flat illinois. storms chased me away, but label my mind estranged to my former words. i don't say things the same. no more grown up, no less alarmingly charming.
in my mind our love defies gravity. at your beck and call it's a new decade to come. the word adventure means nothing to me. but calamity may or may not be calling my name. now i'm in midst of mountains, awaiting revival. do i chase myself, or do i pass? fuck it. i've lost eloquence, but in return stumbled onto a literary freedom. seldom appreciated. hobbies become lifestyles, ex boyfriends become pedophiles, girls reveal too much, and the boy next door wants to sleep in your trunk, he's lost his keys you've lost your mind. you've graduated into adulthood, goodbye. goodbye, goodbye.
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communication? words from you to me sound like pressure on the keys. a piano out of tune. our interests are commodities now. you only mind because you don't mind. double beats, turnspeak, a cloth cloak, companionship, idle hands, it's a language barrier. tens and thousands of voices to make one set of chairs, and a perfect round table. we'll distinguish the odds at the end of the hand. glorified perception, I couldn't pick out your voice from the moon and stars. but like you said, there's no substitute for time.
manipulating time and space, I defied gravity and all that implies. I was atlas flat illinois, much more quiet there than anywhere else in my mind. I still see a sticky film covering my eyes, tones of sepia, I tune you out. I don't believe in electricity. in fahrenheit in celsius I don't believe in the capabilities of the incredible human machine. we're the living dead, and the dead are living our lives. there is no other side. I look up in the dark of the sky, seeing the milky moon reminds me you're swimming in the atmosphere. watching me, answering my rhetorical questions. just because your bones are dust doesn't mean you don't love me now. it would just be inconvenient to be romantically involved with a phantom, surely you understand. death compels.
"now I want to live" you create landfills from the food, pushing it from one side to another on a porcelain plate painted with chinese symbols. I don't believe in america, either. you could have fooled me, reveling in self pity did you a favor. prescriptions to pump you full of emotion. and they touch your arm they whisper "oh, you've never looked better" and you haven't. mild mannered and handsome faced. a civil stranger citizen, you evade them with trust and the illusion of such they've never known.
your face is an empty shelf. typical and symmetrical. your eyes line up just right, and your height works in your favor. all the promise of a real man. your voice echoes like bare cupboards and leaky kitchen faucet sinks. but all I hear is static electricity. words you've spoken disguised as his own electric voice, it blurs to one. the trembling of the rocks sitting in your neck, the ones she's never seen..I have heard you whisper these things. Your voice gets low, like the wind praying to the trees. you're the codes to the map in the sky. a key to unlock a door easily opened. to love and to be loved so simply, to crave.
now I've gone too far, it's time for the west.
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we're adrenaline junkies. surrogate lovers tend to live for the heights, the reckless abandonment. getting off on the lack of control, the inability to feel past electrical surges. living on the surface feels deeper when you're suspended in air. every thing i ever said was a lie, and you didn't even mind. thrill is the operative word left unexamined. see love, see hate, see forever. here i'm swearing, time slipped beneath me. it was not so much avoiding as it was utter oblivion. ask away, it's twenty questions. i have been miming clues to you but you are unconscious from impact. my mind. our only similarities and common interest rely in thinking we know everything there is to know about one another. it's not entirely false. we're living through one another. making common conclusions. you felt just like him, the touch of your hand. what's the name again...oh...what's his name. i will go to bed with fame tonight, and wake up feeling wanted. say what you will about integrity, it lacks literary impact. we'll dig ourselves deeper if it calls for an audience reaction. when they told me you were gone away, your self from your body, i read the script and acted accordingly. grief, agony, reveling in sympathy at the least. method actress. not such a lady, when adhering to. i thought it was coming to an end, but i see it was only being started. what started as benign heartache clinching your will to live turns into motive coursing through your veins. be a drift this time. carry me from day to day as if i were at sea. i wasn't feeling it with my brain the entire time i was letting my imagination control my heart. what a concept of irony. take your second start. you deserve it. | | |
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