SometimesThe ChapterEnds WhenYou Close TheBook

it’s so peaceful here… after the war has faded back into the walls the ghost are growing fainter… each year a nail in the coffin of what has happened here… the stones are growing faded the vegetation overcoming what hours of talking never could… peace talks are nothing… as the open arms of moving on and letting go… not forgetting… never forgotten… but not so close… not still bleeding… tourniquet above my head… scars not to be reopened… graves best left
shut.

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unfinished

agitation is deep/ unseated it’s not safe/ not the kind of agitation/ the agitation you/ can control/ an agitated agitation stirring up riot within/ for what?/ you’re not exactly sure/ But you’re determined/ to keep striking out/ hitting harder to hit deeper/ going wider instead of deeper/ shallow cove of thoughts unfinished/ like everything else in your life/
love you had the last time/ you loved for the last time/ you’ve been loved before and loved after/ but only daring to fall once/ jumping and deciding/ don’t down/ it’s fine/ that’s best and usually only way that it – love – is done… cutting too deep/ sending you, too far

HowCrazyYou – “R”

be the misa misa in my crazy death note be the misa misa to my light yagami he told me he told me he related to L more but i know i know the evil within him the evil within me plowing into me from behind injecting his soul into my blood and me loving loving loving screaming for each moment of it for more more more hit me harder harder till i bleed i’m the misa misa to your light yagami write me a death note
i did.

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For Light/B1/Dark Helmet/trashbag boy. I see you. 👀

BumblePie

today – Molly killed a bee. She didn’t mean too. She was on the phone – headphones if you will – with her bestie Abi.
She’s high because she always is and was pacing around outside her favorite coffee shop – current favorite – because they get better connection outside – that’s what he said *high fives herself* – when she stepped on a little leaf that crunched like a bug and thinks ‘oh I think i just killed a wasp.’ Because where she’s from there’s yellow-jackets and ain’t no fucking around with them so in her mind – before picking up her foot – she’d done a good thing; a favor to society and it’s susceptibility to getting stung.
and then she lifted her converse.

THE WORLD IS HAVING A FUCKING HONEY CRISIS AND FUCKING MOLLY IS SMITING BEEESSSSS

She buried it under a tree.

Not a word was spoken. The beehives all were broken.

so bye bye mr. bumble-bee guy i drove my converse over your body so of course you died
the future children are eating plain cheerios
singing all i want is to see the mystic bee-hives

How Alone They Are

i wanna run until my body withers away

until the ache in my soul goes away

until the pain in my somache is gone

until the muscel spasms stop

until my heart ceases to be

until i’m no longer me

they don’t tell you this, but sometimes all you can do is run. it’s not an act of shame yes it is a loss of control but it’s a loss of something greater the loss of believing that those around you will understand and accept you for who and where you are.

when you’ve done all you can do. to try and love them. to love them. to be there to be what they want to answer their “try me’s” when you say they won’t understand after staring blankly at them and their lies of ‘i understand’ followed by their own life story that has nothing to do with you and who you are and what you’re going through

that’s when you gotta run. it’s not a running away. it’s a getting to a physical space of what you know to spiritually be true. that you are alone and no one sees you. no one can help. and really, they don’t want to. don’t want you. want *you*

she’s not crazy

she’s just the only one who truly knows

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how alone they are

Spider

under a summermoon/ they meet/ toe to toe/ cheek to cheek/ banana spiders are yellow/ it’s true/ but burning love is the color for two/ and his is the hair of a summer breeze/ and hers are the eyes longing to be free/ the carcasses lay all around/ but into her his love he pounds/ physical restraints are useless/ when his is the soul she runs to/ she misses/ small is the time and space before/ together eternal forevermore/ enough is the feeling she holds when held/ wild satisfaction she gives him fulfilled/ together at their base the world stretches/ time disappears when they’re intermeshing/ his are the eyes of the purest blue/ when she fell into them he smiled/ he knew

~Pour Mon Amour

thanks and credit to those who came before… Shakespeare, Poe, and Debbie; naturally.
As always, special thanks to my true love and ever faithful; SummerMoon.

 

WolvesTower

The wolves are coming down around the bend. You can hear their paws churning up the snow like a magic wand blender pound pound pound crunch crunch crunch. You’re inside. You’ve got your feet kicked up on an antique table – one that will eventually become an heirloom – except it already is – you like to forget that your grandma didn’t die last year after selling everything she couldn’t seal in the coffin – more surprised that she didn’t cremate herself in the house – still it was nice of the neighbors to have an estate sale thereby allowing you to refurbish your home – once your grandmothers home pronto.
But the wolves. They’ve been doing this every night. There’s been a problem with wolves once the intactivist starting promoting the rebuilding and reestablishing of the forest – nice and good in theory but no less than 3 cats have already been lost to the intactivist. Your girlfriend’s was one of them – when you still couldn’t manage to cry at the little cat funeral she had she broke up with you. But here’s the thing – emotions aren’t your thing and she knows that. She just came to the incorrect conclusion that if you really loved her – like you say you do everytime you cum – you would at least squirt a lemon in your eye to cry.

she wakes up with a start …. “Aaaaaooooooooo Aaaaaaaaaoooooo you hurt me now i’ve gotta let you go.”

“Habits” (Stay High) by Tove Lo: https://open.spotify.com/embed/track/62N2JSA0jHmSH7Va9t7hIf
“Coyotes” by Wild Belle: https://open.spotify.com/embed/track/775ZnZKfoXpthFYQv5zHbJ

Stu?

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just sent out a snap about a chicken in the dog tee shirt. Hope it wasn’t a frozen dog but a frozen chicken and don’t want to know what happened to the dog or what’s going to happen to the chicken but really hope it wasn’t a frozen dog in the teeshirt and that he’s going to eat it.

grab me tight

pick me out of your box of bento
that’s what I’m here for/ to be touched/ and don’t feel guilt/  hasn’t crossed your mind though/ sometimes I think about you and feel sad/ so I started a literature club in your honor/ and one by one we trickle out/ guess it should be called the suicide club/ but that’s already been taken/ by fake characters/ like me and you/ and there are lines on the ceiling
but I keep looking for gold.

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