#truncatedsouls

[theglassinkwell]

September 23, 2014

I have decided to be happy but I'm not sure that good books  and cool mountain air and long walks at night and hot cups of tea and unquenchable laughter and philosophical talks at 2 a.m. and hugs that don't end will be enough.

[red-barrowheel]

Palpitations, they call them

Heart, wrestling itself out of control

Augmenting reality

Reshaping personality

Marking the point of no return

Accepting how far he's come

Continuing forward, without looking back

Epinephrine is the one

Understood to keep the horse racing

Tactically manuevering the goods

Infilitration through the brain stem

Counting down

Alabama looks nice

Lovely little towns

So far away

[highlights1988]

Alive

It never fails When the rain starts to pour My soul comes alive

[red-barrowheel]

I’ve never missed you any less but I know I’ve missed you more, it’s been a perpetual thing with nearly a thousand monumentally low dips, and this is one of those nights  in which my veins burn with savagery as to mix hellfire with blood casting me off to bury myself for another early morning. Your absence still corrosively haunts my being.

[red-barrowheel]

Shonder Wozen

Why is it that the smell of sulphur is so enticing? the metallic coating encapsulating every nasal hair charging forth with vigor and fervor to reach the pink victory lines, in hopes of implantation, setting fire to all of the lining on its way as a 9 year old stands on the pathogen highway, screaming "burn wall-street, burn, burn!"

[prairieprayers]

I found beauty in the monochrome,

Memories faded like
Old telly screens,
Don’t look for the flicker,
The distant glance in their eyes.
It’s gone, we’re gone.
We have deconstructed values of sweetness,
Death is tainted with colors of misguided longing.
It’s black and white and sometimes grey,
you found beauty in the monochrome,
Like fuck you did,
Death isn’t here for your colorless dreams.

Poems I stole the beginnings of.

[red-barrowheel]

Forcefully Induced Sleep

white dust encapsulating fingers an orange bottle waivers foolhardily fermenting stomach boiling with volatility

acid scars caustic valleys from toiling rain a hard po\ur mashed grounds bored-holes

chewed trees discarded toothpicks black clouds hide what remains

[red-barrowheel]

Love? I will tear us apart.

Solitude used to be my only wish, ya' know, just melting away into the twitching pink monstrosity that constitutes this "brain," but then our bodies clashed in a creaky wooden 2x4 room (more suitable for plants than humans)

You cut a sliver of yourself and fed it to me, you let me take two more before I took it all

I faked civility when you said goodbye to me because the moments for being a monster had passed

Was it that I knicked your vocal cords? Safe word? You mean there's no safe word for the consumption of mind, body, and soul? I just have to sit here and let you eat me whole?

Maybe you'll overcook me and leach out all of the flavor, it has happened before, it has happened before,

I don't know, I'm fine with it, bake me, boil me, bake me again, try to sautee me to save the meat, stuff me down the garbage disposal when you can't

I don't know what hurts anymore, everything is so skewed and my stomach can't handle an ounce of food before it tries to turn itself inside out to forget, forget that you're not here, eat the memory instead of why you're not, the things I could have done

if only my stomach hadn't wanted to digest the world (that's what you think, anyway, it's what I thought too, but there's this thing called denial that happens from time to time) if only I hadn't cut out my voice box to set every reminder of her on fire

Solitude now it's the only thing I regret (it changed since I last told you).