Saturday, November 21, 2015

Indian Feathers

The heart wants what it doesn't and when it does you're fucked. The dark sky in Fall kicks back as winter blows into town somewhere but not here. I'm to far down South. I imagine she sits by a fire with him, tied up in ribbons and bows. Let me think that at night in bed she dreams of escape.

  There is a sting in my heart and poison in my veins. I want to remember  her smile and laugh and whatever.... it's nothing. I keep thinking back to the road trips and sex in hotel rooms. Just moving each other up and down side to side always there and  somewhere else.

  She kisses me and the stars shine. I wanted a religion where i could suspend my disbelief. I'm glad i can hear the sound track so loud in my head. I can hear my words as if they are being typed out one after other. I'm living in my life but not living it. A bad actor, to shy, to afraid to make a mistake or be embarrassed. Hide behind lines I've written days ago and keep coming back to over and over again.  


Sunday, November 15, 2015

words are for sleeping

im supposed to make myself want the money more
than bloody hands
and bruises
working fields or
sailing the seas.
She told me 
a Gentleman isn't gentle at all.

content to watch what life could
be like-- as you scroll scroll scroll
tick tock tick
sleep sleep sleep. 
stare at a thin layer of glass
in hopes to find your true love- or at least a true fuck
within that same thin layer
look for something to covet
to buy,
to be pissed off about.
hey, if you 
show me your best photo of yourself
ill show you mine
I'll put my words up against all the others
copy paste any biography
tell me something i haven't heard
any different game on some different night
all the same
just to help