May 2012
congratulations. you are alive.
in transit.
in utero.
the city buses
telling me
secrets. secrets
secreting from her walls.
looking at faces
as they pass with stone faces.
behind fingerprinted planes of glass.
above an advertisement
for another shitty adam sandler movie.
i am not in my mother’s car looking at buses anymore.
i am growing up.
this is me growing up.
this is baited breath
within an imagined...
she would kill a man just to hear him whisper.
ive got streams of lemonade spilling behind my eyes and caked sugar on my cheeks. the afternoon is crystalline and i am not evaporating.
the collective subconscious.
oh yeah, there are ghosts everywhere you walk.
i can’t even self loathe without people that don’t know me pretending that they know me and telling me that i’m wrong anymore.
forge your signature all over my body in magic marker.
i refuse to believe that you won’t be alive forever.
there are fragile spiderwebs extending from our bodies spun from spiders that live inside of us. the spiders want us to be together so when we hug, they spit webs out of our chests in hopes that they become entangled with the webs from the other spider. and then we stand. silent. still. cos if we move, the webs will break. a tangled mess of spiderwebs between us and we smile innocently and refuse...
literally publish the shit out of me.
some contrived carpe diem sentiment got mixed up with a nostalgia for caramel filled chocolate candies. #rolo
get off the internet and go hug someone and tell them that you love them.
i can’t believe i’m already fading away.
they wanted to keep the funeral “low key” they told me. they didn’t splurge on the hors d’oeuvres that they usually bought for family gatherings. they rented suits and dresses from a store next to a 7-11. they lowered the body into the ground on a tuesday morning with their fingers tucked inside their palms.
trivial-rind:
i realize slowly that i have a huge heart and it is golden and true but it is the wrong kind of heart.
nathanmasserang:
the trix rabbit exploding out of a child adolescence will never be the same again please hit me
we are looking at the purple and orange and yellow lights that dance around the sun and make the sky think that it’s bruised and make us think that all of the sunsets belong to us and that we are the only two people who are breathing.
an elderly man in a college classroom inferring that a stanza in a poem is about cunnilingus when it is not.
the sensation of reading your own intimate thoughts in a text authored by someone else.
nudist ant colonies.
misquote me.
i wrote a constitution on napkins once and i periodically mail the amendments to foreclosed homes without a return address.
i like the feel of mosquito bites because they make me feel alive and connected to the world outside of my body.
imagine supermarket casinos with delicatessen roulette and produce slot machines.
i want to fish off of a crescent moon like the dreamworks kid but without being followed by a generic cgi film.
oh no. oh yes. oh maybe.
your mouth is a floodgate.
-a makeshift dam
made of sticks and concrete
natural and synthetic
the water on either side
i am rising-
the core
apple core
bitten in my chest cavity
i am rotting.
i am rotten.
you are a rorshach test.
you are a rain cloud in an automobile.
you are lichens on a rock.
i am filling my body with rocks and i want to kiss you.
go to a supermarket and fill a cart with random groceries that you don’t intend to purchase. fill it all the way to the top and then leave it unattended in one of the aisles. then go sit in your car in the parking lot and listen to every mix cd that anyone has ever given you regardless of whether or not you are still on speaking terms with certain people.
jump out of a moving car. jump on a trampoline with rusting springs as the sun sets. jump on your parents’ bed when you were six years old.
i am a ghost boy and nobody realizes it. that is ok.
sunlight collects on the heads of bald people and they smile unknowingly. put solar panels on the heads of bald people. we can create a new form of clean energy. we can save the world.
i am a true champion of the world because my mother birthed me or in spite of it.
my ceiling fan is a garbage disposal
and i am looking up at it
from the perspective of
a rotten piece of fruit
being force fed
to it by a bent fork.
i can’t stand the view from my bed so
i get up
standing exactly where i stood
with bare feet
in front of you
(with bare feet)
hours before.
and then i am out of the window.
through the muffled sounds of cars
on the highway...
that awkward moment when your awkward moment joke is so specific that it isn’t relatable whatsoever.
when you text me while i’m playing tiny wings, i mess up and get frustrated but then i realize that it’s a text from you and then i realize that i’m not frustrated anymore and i smile real big.
people who don’t believe in god saying “oh my god.”
my skin is skin tight and my bones, they ache.
if you’re feeling sad, cher up. do you believe in life after love?
i am a suburban soldier with acne skin armor. i am ready for battle.
a pokémon pickup line: when i look at you, i feel like a metapod because harden is the only attack that i’m capable of.
Anonymous asked: Can I have sex with you? Pleeeease?
bugs that cling to the screen of the screen door at the front door of my house and try to get in when i open the door. why would you want to go into my house? you have the whole suburban world at your disposal. the smart ones crawl inside the plastic casings of streetlights and get trapped inside where they have a warm, lit up, death. all they are searching for is warmth and light. inside...
rip out my heart and rip out your heart and put them together. wrapped up in translucent wax paper and beating. touched by the sunlight spilling across the table.
my ability to describe something poetically diminishes after actually experiencing it.
rock. paper. scissors. shoot me.