my body is tired from too much life i think
anxious tapping body talking in arm chair
listening eyes and ears for the confession
listening but i'm quiet and tap tap tapping
stomach trained for beer, bacon, cum
nothing but a shadow of the eternities of
fuck swirling in pools of sidewalk slush
leather on concrete skin on skin lip on shoulder
death on bone sheet upon sheet of bleary dream
sequence, a steady heart motion hip movement
hand grabbing cigarette crushing
ceasing seizing ginger and grief
and staring bathroom walls
squared towels
unfinished plates of food and land
shifting constant
tomorrow isn't certain
and yesterday chloe felt like my best friend
feline companion from my past life
this, endless,
void
echoing he he he he
hello afternoon
supermarket fairytale
tell me how tomorrow goes
About Me
- alia
- "too much stuff, too many places, too much information, too many people, too much of things for there to be too much of, there is too much to know and i don't know where to begin but i want to try."
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3 comments:
tomorrow will be good.
tomorrow will be good.
tomorrow will be good.
will my tomorrow be good?
(yes it will!)
This is haunting and amazing, and it perfectly captures something that down't have a word to explain it.
And by "down't" I meant "doesn't".
Sorry for the double-comment, but it was staring me in the face.
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