Fury.

it rages through my body like a deadly virus.
urging me to do damage.
i want it to go away.
i want it to leave me.
i want to kill it.

progress report,

i am still sad.
and i still don't know what to do.


Well don't call me by my full name,
And all this is temporary.
It feels much better to know that you won't feel a thing.
Well don't talk about it;
Write it down but don't ask for help.
when I can't be honest with even myself.
Did you ever wish you were somebody else?

none

the butcher's shop - it reeks of slaughter. in the back room, it is refrigerated,
and they store vials of scarlet blood on the shelves. next to them are stacks
of fish eyes, but those do not taste nearly as nice.

at night, i like to half-close my eyes and wrap my fingers around my throat.
"hello, asphyxiation," i say, and through a screen of my own eyelashes i see that
there is a crucifix hanging on my bedroom wall, and i think about my friend from
elementary school who made me a collage from church pamphlets.

(when i was young, i fastened a 'vacancy' sign to my skull in the hopes of
attracting religion, but i no longer have room to believe in a god because it is
filled with meat hooks where i hang my rotting thoughts.)

i shut my hand in the clothing dryer this morning;
the skin now recoils from my knuckles to expose stark bones. upon seeing it
i want to vomit, but that is only because it is beautiful, isn't it?

there are bees trapped in my larynx and i cannot speak, not even to the
priest in the confessional. there is a christmas tree in my room festooned with
dead chain lights, and it is october. there are things called final thoughts, last words,

and maybe that's what these are? (and sometimes i rub my lips with roxanol and
slather my skin with cold air, saying "this won't hurt a bit, this won't hurt a bit.")

normal.

i want so badly to tell you something,
but i have no idea what that something is.

im waiting for you to tell me something,
but i have no idea what that something is.

i still feel like one day something will happen,
one big event, that will make everything okay and make me feel like i used to.
i know this is an unrealistic wish, and it puts a lot of pressure on you,
but i still hope for it.

from the beginning i decided you were my lifetime project.
but maybe we both need fixing.

you want to understand me,
i want to understand you.
but the truth is we've never talked about what makes us how we are.
maybe its because we dont understand ourselves.

its that i love you and i miss the sparkle that made me blush.

paperhearts,

Last night I danced with you over endless I love you's and forget me not's to your bed.
In the morning I tip-toed over mountains of I hate you's and i don't need you's nipping at my heels.
On the coldest day in December i dressed myself in your favorite dress and made a million paper ships with paper hearts.
With bandaged hands i released them down a watered gutterpath all addressed to you,but your lips were to busy mumbling sweet nothing's that even you didn't believe.
All the while my paper ships with paper hearts sailed on by until they soaked up all the water and sank.
So tonight she will dance with you over empty I love you's and I'll forget you tomorrow's to your bed.
I'll just keep making these paper ships with paper hearts and maybe someday one will reach you.

Goldfish,

Jesus, it has been such a long time since i last posted.
a month and some change.

it is a real shame that i didn't post at all during June,
so much happened,
some good, some bad.
but so far i really have had a life altering summer.
i hope it continues with the same energy.

i have grown closer to a group of people that i have always really adored.
and for that i am very grateful.
i love them dearly.

"to always remember who you are, and who you want to be"
i wish i could remember everything that was said standing on the bank of Tobo on July 4th,
but that one phrase sticks in my head the most.
because that is the one thing i hope all of my loved ones remember.



its far too uncommon these days.