#oddthursdaychannel

[scottwriteschannel]

11:53pm

perhaps midnight is an invention of my own paranoia staring at the staircase, only to remember that I already died when the potion keeps me sleeping and midnight will happen at any hour again with coffee spilled, for this is right here is a new feel, a feel I been reminiscing since age of imperialism —fire to flame hanging over the edge for I can't recall the last time I brought a knife to a gun fight only to stab myself directly between the third and fourth rib only because of you... that I’m a believer of witchcraft, voodoo, and Digital HD, yet I still dream of you thinking to myself haven't I not fit to your mood adjustably watching beautiful brown and blue children with angelic wings swinging merciful from the sycamore tree which is symbolic to old thoughts for I was just a passenger in the rear view to your glorious mind which murdered me several time before I ever had chance to kiss you...

[scottwriteschannel]

wild womb(man) who thrown an grenade at your heart, I fear that my best try isn’t good enough when we were so surely in love we were so surely wrong at 4 a.m. and I was thinking of you I’m thinking of the mess we created you treated me so badly making the pain so beautiful with war in your smile until day I painted myself blue trying to be like you I fear that I will be left with my evil voices writing poetry on my back that we washed away in the heat of the night –asking wild womb(man) who thrown an grenade at your heart, I have spent days arranging this bowl of fruit, all for you, knowing how much you love fruit even when days feel like an eternity when I’m not next to you –remembering when I stayed with you on Thursdays as I was trying to make home in you and there is a woman outside the hospital carrying tulips for we live beneath an black earth finding that there’s poetry in pain and lonely suffering and beauty in an insatiable soul

Kai Scott