this is for you if you want it

[a-tiny-truth-blog]

asses to ashes

Pink death for those that toil in sureness.

Sludge from a silver fountain if you must eat— 

torn paper covered in dirt for your flat words.

Everywhere holds boundless treasure if there’s

a second for anyone to poke their head in

.

the child knows children and the bears

know other bears and the grass can only see

What a delicious piece of soil lives in the 

storm of your gut! the hour of

carving will come and so will severance

from your username and an avatar hanging mid-ether

with their eyes bedulled and the hyperlinks red.

set yourself alight and burn burn

burn burn burn 

[a-tiny-truth-blog]

depleading

I write these things down and I don’t feel better

my desk is still messy

and my room is slathered in the grease of my lazy living

a sluggard waiting for the saline

threadbare sheets impregnated with the dust that is me

I have thousands of choices and they all end the same

in a seminal sigh that falls by your ankles

look at my works, ye normie, and ignore

.

I am fighting to become myself

but know not what waits for me across that river

[a-tiny-truth-blog]

gravestoned

what is this weight behind my knees?

which invisible king asks me to prostrate myself

before his unseen empire?

whose army is this pricking my side

to pop this growing boil

on the face of adolescent Earth, 

a pressurized speck full of dark stains and salt?

.

one day I know they will push me flat

a bug dashed on a cosmic windshield 

times’s rubber blades scraping my memory

a terminal lateral arc

.

so I break these breadcrumbs off of myself

and crumble them across the paths I leave to the past

I can see only one direction

and I only have one set of eyes

no one will sing my story aloud

so I hold it quietly in this home that is my tomb

[a-tiny-truth-blog]

soreing

I wonder if she ever had a lover

I can barely see it

someone holding baggy skin to bone

and trying to kiss the devil away

laying her gently behind the bleachers at night

.

maybe she took that vision

and told it to go fuck itself

along with the cells everywhere inside

that were her

asked the world why it even mattered,

whether living marked or evacuating expectation

was even important, when she would have

so little a window

to watch life pass by.

I know she had love

and deserved it 

but i hope that 

(if she wanted)

she was kissed the way i so greedily have been kissed

[a-tiny-truth-blog]

cgkray

You look at him and suddenly you are alive in your own eyes, 

his shoulders are maybe broader than yours, or his hair is just

one shade redder and falls straighter, but the way 

you both pull it all the way back in desperate attempts

to knot it off, those eyes crinkling at the corners ugly 

laughing behind plastic glasses too worn to see just right, 

shirt collar to neck with nothing to spare, the high button

affectation of the trans-suburbian set. Each dot on 

this shirt is a universe in cotton strands and toe 

to toe we are the infinite possibilities that

somehow close enough to touch the glass

just beyond the silver. I have not seen you for years

but I walk with you in this pale shell by proxy.

One day I will close the gate and find my own

fairy and let it out of this bottle. 

[a-tiny-truth-blog]

aintcient

it’s only just past midnight but i’m already wondering when the mythology

is coming in—

I have a crushed soda can that I really need to sacrifice. One 

way or another this will all end once these last birds of evening

dip back to bower and the sun laughs life into us. I

have sat on this bench waiting for the magnificent and unknowable

to take me the 2.7 miles to the apartment building. My knees

dreamt of escaping to french kiss the asphalt and spit my lifeblood 

into the tamed ground; my mouth angled to find the spectre of

an Icee straw that would distract the water. So don’t fricking tell

me that I’m a friuckin moth on a screen door in this 

buddy comedy of the spheres. God’s laptop has

infinite decals on the back even though the wifi don’t work so

great. 

[a-tiny-truth-blog]

pharm

I need to stop spraying seeds

& cultivate speech patterns

tidy rows of verbs and nouns

parceled firmly into syntactical order

weep to water them every noontime

listening to the drunken stone poet

the folds of tape sizzling in ear

cracking drum skins

vibrating into alignment alongside

years squandered on discontent

a soul dangling

one preposition to end a life on

an existence agrammatical 

mushed into bloated open verse

[a-tiny-truth-blog]

dirt

crosshatch away the sour memories

bury the old self in composted regret

flowers will grow from its body

and a bouquet will grace the table

months later

itself a murdered memorial to the soil

what gave it shelter in its youth

.

leave the dinner set

knots of garlic warding

against the blight of life always waiting to descend

enveloping everything

s(c)ent across the air for

another generation to breathe

saints and despots alike in their lungs

we are one in decay

but keep ourselves sequestered

in a hundred thousand gardens

.

I clip my wire and open my gate

to the brush that overcomes my 

machete effort

[a-tiny-truth-blog]

lord of the wood

will you let me into your forest for a while?

may I cling to soft handfuls of moss on the rocks

and climb to reach the bottom of the canyon 

with a rushing river of sky?

will the hounds stop me and tempt me 

with soft wounds and illusions 

before I can reach the heart of the wood,

verdant genesis that supplies the air

and the shade

and the fruit from which we all feed?

.

when I am here I am one of them

but I walk without their purpose

their passion

just a confused child in your ancient glade

but i carry no blade to clip you

no vase or cage to carry you out

i ask only for refuge and nourishment

to tangle these tentacles briefly with yours

you are the king

shimmering

a lake of diamonds opening before you in a storm

.

you are glorious and I shall hide away

sit in shade for a whole summer

and cower in your grace

Am I worth you?

I cannot be everything

but can I be enough?

[a-tiny-truth-blog]

daze

I am the knight

and you are the dei

.

I will light fires in the

holes of your heart

.

and pump a screaming joy

into your veins

.

give you pause to breathe

and cause to breathe again

.

a gale force gaming you

into a higher consciousness.

.

Awake with me and

chew on the rising light

.

draw the morning dew from

the tremble in your throat

.

rust against my steadfast love

in ichor and in bile

.

to test small death unending

in the cracked shell of the night

[a-tiny-truth-blog]

teenagenres

I used to put down 

HEADY

SHIT

in

the

vein of an

artist fucking

  up a______ typewriter!!!!!!!!

$$$o it’s hard for me to say

  i’m trying just as well

⍧an all i center be yet a swell against 

a dead Romantic in me head

alight on the skin under my fingers

flesh

freely given

    no longer a gifted

  &terrible along await

AL

WA

YS                                   (i pick up the teenagenre)

it falls left to right

i carry myself to Nü shores

and lurk moar 33333333333333333333333 

[a-tiny-truth-blog]

beady, small

Barely anything registers

six hours removed

from the sweetness of your smell

the softness of your skin

electric hands on flesh

raking nails sowing red rows in

your thighs and back

purple pooling under my teeth and

tangled tongue

.

it fades into this idea propped

up by jpegs and the vaguest retelling

you will know them like I do not

you will live a body I can only

imagine

I am clumsy with the buckle

and the twine

too timid to break you

to snap the switch enough to 

break tears

or blood

or the whole sacrament of fluid

blended only in the grail of my mind

an altar poised on my belly

a scripture dribbling from my mouth

.

in the two-week winter

these facts are mythology

this folly is a ritual

potentiating magic whose reach

is too short

for me to feel in ecstasy, 

only to conjure a fleet in fear

.

I am frozen here, half the world 

away

I wander minus purpose amid these

empty temples and hollow memorials to 

fell-low inhumanity 

.

I want you to bite me

I want you to hurt me

I want you to hold me

I want you to love me

but I just twitch these pointless parts

and write these worthless words

[a-tiny-truth-blog]

storming

grab hold of the branch for

awhile

because this storm will not stop

turning for you to pass

every ripple from every drop is a galaxy

with one more hope sucking all

into the sacred circle

.

you are subject to this magic

it keeps you in its belly

as you wait for new life

your thicket will be paved over

someone will park a car

right on the spot

where you made your declaration

the bough that sheltered you

will burn under someone’s mantle

feeding the tongue that makes metal

or hardens clay against the

harsh truth of time

.

your dust will sate the mouths of millions

[a-tiny-truth-blog]

last of his name

Everything will turn orange at the end of the day’s blade

cleaving light from the sparkling void that swallows us

our snot the last hit of life refining itself

in vegetal furnace

its rot a purifying flame

.

you and i are cracked seeds

sprouting ecstasy towards the cosmic flower that feeds us

we can climb the sacred wall together

fill the fonts with sour nectar

the new covenant in our distorted image

.

we stretch for an answer

the base palatial mystery of ourselves

last born princes of dying seats

the split chair rending kings to pigs

can you taste the end, beloved? 

the prophecy of oblivion on my chapped lip

sore from years of silence?

.

would you soothe me for a moment 

as the hail falls on my head?

[a-tiny-truth-blog]

maybe i am a cloud

Maybe I am a cloud stretching and

sobbing over cities and fields

.

or an elephant breaking grass

under flat foot

eating rotten fruit to forget

and the thrashing in a forest

staggering and spitting truth

dotted with fuckwords and

ungentle love and criticism

.

but tomorrow I will drape you

in flowers unblemished

and will blow the lost soft cool

spring wind upon your back

you will not hide from the open sky

or turn from the nourishing rain

if I am your summer cloak

[a-tiny-truth-blog]

dreamon

in my dream

I yawned off my skin

and sprang out a graey daemon

.

steaming for a moment

cackling cinders onto wet earth

hot steel claws melting off asphalt 

tungsten orangeeyes

.

I lit for half a second

and flayed myself alive

to wrap the world in this

cheap winter’s coat

.

and I woke up yelling my 

name to the heavy nothing surrounding

me

.

I am the rock from which blood flows

I am the tree from which gold grows

[a-tiny-truth-blog]

this

is a fresh corpse for me to grow little maggots of poems

a fresh vessel for the sweet weak wine of my life's sweat

join me in this furious jiggly descent

let's affirm each other in the cold fires of inter(net/action)

i would kiss you across lightyears if i had more than these

shells of bone and keratin flapping through time tunnels

borne on bored keys and a tinny transducer

we are boundless and also no more than this

we are huge ideas inside of a tiny truth

so let's party at the precipice of being to which we all cling desperately