Category Archives: Life

the phantoms grasp

when i gaze long enough into these melting sidewalks i can see myself as i was before; before i knew anesthesia, before i knew platforms, before i knew the ocean and where looks could take me. i was mislead and … Continue reading

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cynics know no light

i once begged visions of orange to loft their skin by their lashes, eager to mold reason through glances. but it all became mute in retroflextives. i figured the city put stars on a shelf with it’s swollen hands so … Continue reading

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wrangling dust

it’s a votive for confidence; a feather threaded through the ear, forging for motives spooled by powder or ashes. but there are no ashes for my sin never rests in bed. my watch still flares over chasm. a motto in quasi … Continue reading

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Haiku, Cry or Leaf

It’s Autumn in the Bags of your eyes and I try Not to fall with you

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only if there’s a last supper after my “last supper…”

if i let my tongue burn, sometimes i think i would die. sometimes i think i would die if i let you fall under my breath where i hide my bread crumbs. it’s because they didn’t teach me misery right. … Continue reading

Posted in Cohering My Trip, Life, Recollecting India, Recollecting Insanity | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

Who’s the Bitch?

                 Am I filled with helium                   or did the sticks fetch                 themselves? My head                       must be bloating                         and gloating…                                I assume       this humbled posture               has strayed me          hunchbacked as     a neutered … Continue reading

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Untitled

This is just specks I tackle in dilation Until my eye lashes fly. They carve my cheeks To assure me Of whats underneath. And I can see before touch But I can not see past touch. Anticipation is being rapid– … Continue reading

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sister

pin me past the seasons. my chest hums out, my jaw reacted because of weeks heavy against confession. that prick felt sharper made by yellow’s reflection restored in our familiar skies. sun is sometimes but always.. paired, we are similar … Continue reading

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i feel least

and nothing’s changed, changes overcome— me— still longing for meanings unknown, or at least misunderstood.

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tumble weed

that is my pride you took, my bones you rattled to crisp burnt sienna– a hue of distraction. repulsion for such twists of auburn, curls disregarded and tumbled for weeds. now i brush in dust that you have woven and … Continue reading

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