RHYME ZONE

we met on the internet
i'm not there yet
like trying to wipe sweat with cheap serviettes
stopping you from being tame

It was a tell tale sign when the gift giving declined

heart dripping like liquid gold
ignore what
penciled in faces fill the mould
his sore eyes match heis peach shirt
he used to live in paris
he was a colourist
a specialist
gold medal on the mystery front
i need to be less blunt

stiff upper lip

rising from the mist like a child saluting a flag
I know what its like this regime
drunk with bliss
dripping with inextricable
heat, knowledge
he speaks of power
will it hit him in the face



blood rushed cheeks
wine in an empty marble void
diminishing your souls in a seventies church in 1995
she watches, she has lost her way
cocaine as a centrepiece
cannot exist,
isolated this
neutralness
marble cools the soft skin of a girl unlike another.

this is the sticks

a new deal
handsome ivy league boy
plateauing comfortably
observing her glitter dipped brogues
flaking onto maple underneath

steadily flickering
if possible
hushing him up again
secreting all she knew for another

desert roll.

keep it crushed
juice pulp in teeth
seamless, knowing
I used to know the light behind your eyes
but now it is snowing

craving old house to carry out old dreams
live in fantasies
burnt out
gleams in my eyes
fell
cynics know not how to roll
they have it coming
stilted, misty suprises

JUST IMAGINE ALL THOSE CANDLES BURNING

I imagined him with a live racoon wrapped around his neck. Does he realise his heart is filled with ghosts? I guess I became a myth of what was to become but now your back with us. Its a shame you know, your dangerous exsistence cannot be more romantic. We'll kill ourselves waiting for this thing.

grind me a dream

The morning after I opened my crimson lipstick to find the end perfectly flat. After a blank second i rembered grinding it in circular motions on the inside of my wrist the night before. I'm writing a song in my head right now called grind me a dream. "he'll love it."

I kept thinking about my “pyramid of death hate” with the rainbow hate laser and the skull.

Occuring slowly but surely. There are far too many ways to know anout you on the internet and far too less for me.

A giant spiralling vortex picked me up and spun me violently for perhaps the last exact year to which a can pinpoint almost to this day. This day a year ago I know what I was doing. I was driving around in my Dad's car listening to Slowdive's just for a day crying my fucking eyes out.

I let myself get knee deep.

I originally freaked out about blogs. I wanted to just archive everything. Everything being all my writing that comes out and i never show anyone. I gave a poem to a Valentine once, he said he liked it, but I'm not so sure.

I'm going to write all the texts in my inbox in my diary so i don't forget.