At Galaxy’s Edge
It will hurt
One can’t be sure how badly
Certainly, it will be
Tag: writing
intrusive thoughts
you're haunting me thoughts of your lips teasing and taunting meRead More
Dance, Dance
I like that feeling in my belly, when I really want to dance. Like walking on the sidewalk and a good tune comes on or when I’m in the gym and I just can’t help bobbing and moving, gyrating, not even walking but holding back my moves as I walk-dance across the floor.
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Anchor-less Ships & Stray Thoughts
Don’t pray for love, just
ask the lonely
The ones with all the money
and no relief
No release
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Reclaiming My Time
The thing about you is everything is always about you.
I refuse to be tasked with helping you hold on to your sanity
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the great escape
it’s like there’s a fire
in your gut, but Read More
Modern Romance, Pt 1
Getting back into the dating scene was a bit intimidating, but since my hunger for dick and pussy was stronger than my fear of rejection I jumped on OK Cupid. The app was nothing like it was a couple years ago – swipe culture infected it. I went ahead and purchased the premium subscription so I could see who liked me and who messaged me. Even as an ‘A-Lister’ my prospects were limited. Read More
Round & Rising
I look at myself without recognition.
Is this what I should be happy with now?
I’ve grown so much I feel less desirable,
yet I’m as miserable as I’ve always been. Read More
Hate even numbers
Lay
Beside Read More
Dying in My Dreams
My aim is to no longer dream of my own destruction, for when I do I live in fear. And to live in fear is to stand still at the bottom of a Ferris wheel during a blood moon festival. To live in fear is to stand still at a November carnival. They come and go these opportunities to move. Yet year upon year I stay planted.
Confetti Cum
I drop my head,
close my eyes,
rub my eyelids,
exhale, and confetti
flares from my nostrils
Song Series, Vol 1.
There’s something magical in the
way music rearranges physics
With the right song, you can
exchange repressed reality
for waking moments in a vivid
Throbbing Veins & Belongings
It’s a quiet Sunday morning. The sun plunges in through the window, painting glow worms on your back. Shadows shift with your body, which jerks as you beat eggs. My eyes walk the teeth-marked train tracks trailing from the nape of your neck to your right shoulder.
Fuck with Sense
Meaningless sex doesn’t appeal to me
Sex for the sake of motion
Without emotion
Faked orgasms
Or worse, orgasms faintly felt.
