LimeTree,

breezy breezy sundays in your backyard.
i remember them.
the grass was bright green and cold,
just like your eyes.
you said we are no more important than trees,
you are the lime tree.
you'd say.

you lived with your grandparents back then,
Nanniebob made the best macaroni and cheese.
but then your mom came back home.
and wanted you to live with her again.
you hated your mom, but you moved back in with her.
and you said it was great.
you said.

you had a boyfriend then,
his name was Blake.
Blake was your first.
i remember us laying on your bed listening to Midtown,
when you told me.
you started crying but you told me you were happy.
thats what you told me.

you used to party a lot then,
with all of Blakes older friends.
you used to tell me about all the crazy stuff that would happen.
knocking on my window at 3 in the morning,
smelling like alcohol and smoke and chemicals.
you usually slept in my bathroom when you got sick.
you told me you didnt want to wake up your mom and her boyfriend, because they needed the sleep.
thats what you'd say.

i heard you screaming one night.
you were laying outside my door.
thankfully i was the only one home that night.
you were sweaty, and very very pale.
you felt cold.
you were too heavy to drag inside, so i started crying and ran for the phone.
the ambulance said to stay on the line, but i dropped the phone.
"Baby bird, it will be all right. when you jump there is always the chance you'll catch the wind and fly away."
thats what you said.



then you shut your eyes.

my head just wont cooperate today, bleh

we are children.
we are the sons and daughters of the sun and the moon,
and we own the night.

semi toxic smoke and deadly neon hydrogen peroxide and a phthalate ester solvent.
we breath that in.
but its no worse than the nicotine-rat poison cocktail we inhale daily.
fermented potato juice and fermented sugarcane.
we drink that in.
but its no worse than the pills they proscribe.

we dance together when the moon is high and the music is loud.
bodies intertwined, a hand here, a hip there.
no ones body is really their own anyway.
when the energy and time is right you'll give yourself to anyone,
give a dance, give a kiss, give a touch.
and by the end of the night you are everyone and everyone is you.
by morning non of it will matter,
just a bruise here, and a throb there.

everyone is just after love.


it comes with the freedom of summer,
the promise of no regrets.

because by the time they remember,
its hybernation time again.
















we've only just woke up.

i just had to post this now,

A storm is coming, Frank says
A storm that will swallow the children
And I will deliver them from the kingdom of pain
I will deliver the children back the their doorsteps
And send the monsters back to the underground
I'll send them back to a place where no-one else can see them
Except for me,
Because I am Donnie Darko.

oh Ecanus,

how i need you now.


not only do i have "The Novel" in my head,
a story line thats been festering in my brain for the past year,
now i also have a new creative idea.


and seeing as this one is a bit closer to me, its not going to blow off.

GRRR.

stupid Angel.
why bless me with the gift of story creation, but deny me the rest of your power?
the gift of seeing my work through to completion.



uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhgggggggggggggg.................................................................


i dont even know where to start.

Love.

It's so close to hate, it's almost indistinguishable.
but this is how it was for the two of them.
Love and Hate.
Life and Death.
Joy and Anguish.


Abbadon the Unlikely.
Named so because his wistful nature masked a cold and fierce rage.

The Destroyer of Worlds,
and the emperor of her own heart.