it was a ` spacial ` experience
Tag: Literature
hanged man
it's time to recover you can remain pressed that never pressed me they all see you runnin' like time is runnin' low time for some class bell rang, late for class- it's over.
yorknew
her eyes they screamed violence violet in the sun red in the new moon this is our requiem;
tie me down
i knew it the moment i saw you i couldn't look away scornful eyes peered down i didn't care. the way you bounced in the summer night i caved in your eyes i'm glad they never returned i wouldn't have let you go
nonsense nonfiction
i chose to take my time to fill the holes left by fiction
trauma stop
she was a needle beetle crawling on all fours ice in her veins of what remains. red puff explodes from her eyes circled her like a vulture claim to be of culture nothing but guilty spies.
untitled 10
she used to say the number twelve smelled like pine outside~ one chirstmas morning 12pm i knew what she meant ~ it's twelve days till your birthday i remember that night; tragic vandal we'll light a pine scented candle in your memory
scream & yell
i remember you differently a quiet one, now you yell from the highest mountain top whatever happened i'm happy i love your voice
untitled 09
set fire to everything that isn't for you
once
i haven't seen your eyes shine the way the did tonight; i captured every second with my two lenses before the night ended
Saint's Muse 