So I made this onlinedating account because I was pressured by friends and I’m a fucking lemming. Anyway. Had to close it..because almost 50 emails in a couple of days. There can’t be that many people as bat shit crazy as me…can there???
I love you and I hate you
There are days when I contemplate the relief in your end
There are other days I wish you were infinite
The moment where your realize
The only true happiness
Is obtained when you learn
Not to give a fuck.
Due to a momentary glitch in the space time continuum my car took a brief detour into an alternate dimension. This strange phenomenon caused subtle changes to the Volvo logo on my car and took the pink right out of my hair. This ever happen to anyone else?
I am a writer and a painter. Neither of which I am particularly great at. But I don’t believe being great is the point. The point is the fulfillment and pleasure creating something brings. The point is perchance, one day, these little fragments of your heart and soul will graze against and ignite someone else’s spirit.
How am I spending my Valentine’s day? Sipping echinacea tea (because I am sick), listening to some Mazzy Star (because I love 90s wrist cutting music) and writing about demons. (because it’s one of my favorite things to write about)
I hope your Valentine’s day is as killer as mine.
I’m beginning to wonder how many rejection letters I can collect this year. Someone told me once they framed all of their rejections and filled many walls before they received their first acceptance letter. This is starting to feel a bit like my love life.
If it were easy it wouldn’t be very satisfying would it?
He said the only cuts worth having
are the ones that scrape against bone
the ones that grind you down
and build you back up
He whispers through the bitter-blood taste of the Cabernet
Do you know pain?
I etched it into the skin on my wrist
the night of delirious bowling
I made myself vulnerable
only to swear never again
I have paid the price for this oath
For apart we were a plague upon the other
Together we were the epitome of splendor
Do you think this is true?
His grin is cocky,
and he tells me
My writing is the epitome of spendor
when he is the muse.
Dusk brushed the building tops
I saw the twinkle in your eye
within the city lights
A sigh formed in longing
the memory of a frosty kiss…
the smell of leather
the scent of you.
These are things I will forever miss…
The music played
and I liked the sound his fingers made
sliding across strings
in between chords
But nothing could break me from this melancholy trance
I was sad about the news
the man on the moon
needed a space suit to breath
and all mountains will crumble
into the sea
Boys passed me in ski masks
but payed me no mind
except a nod and a peace sign
The wind blew back my hair
my skin became ice
I stood on top of the mountain
caught in between chords
and waited for it to crumble.