cunty.

I poet sometimes.

[whatafkncunt]

The body that thins

The body that thins.

Diaphanous skin; cages that peek.

A breakfast of honey and teeth;

the city's saliva dampens the streets

and slogs through the grates

to the belly below.

the swallow,

the churning that follows,

Scared sloshing of bread,

calcified light poles

bending their heads,

breathless expending of what has been fed.

[whatafkncunt]

Cloth-covered long face.

The precession from the driveway.

Doors that open sideways.

You thought you'd live forever.

It's autumn in the Sunbelt states,

and all around is dying.

You're on my shoulders,

what a weight.

I dread to put you down.

Gas station fodder.

The friend of someone's daughter.

The smile you threw at me the day

before you went away.

Why can't ghosts be real?

I long for you to move a chair,

to wake one day and see you there

with words you long to say.

[whatafkncunt]

The lights went out in Georgia.

You and me in a tiny mall.

The lights went out in Georgia.

You didn't get your mother's call.

Manikins. Alive, like manikins.

I swear they follow us around.

Dark again.

Inside is dark again,

Beyond the edges of the clouds.

[whatafkncunt]

We’ll get caught.

The hands have eyes,

And all the stores as well.

The car can hear you.

Mad man, Mad man,

We can’t be seen.

Nowhere’s secret.

Stop.

The TV’s watching.

[whatafkncunt]

In a billion years some more developed ape will wonder if I was a thinking man

[whatafkncunt]

The church and rituals and icons act as middlemen between us and the divine. People who cannot hear the voice of God listen to pastors. This is a microcosm of a greater loss in humanity: the ability to align our society with the transcendent (ethics, morality, etc). Maybe science, and the consequential disillusionment with the world, stripped this from us. We're left with all these symbols from a time when we believed in things.

[whatafkncunt]

I still miss her sometimes and read her old work.

I don't want to pathologize this sweetness I have for you.

It's my own sweetness and it's allowed here.

I hope you are sheltered by light, reddened cheeks and bushy eyebrows.

Your shoes are worn at the toe and covered in Multinomah sand.

I hope you are surrounded and free and yourself.

[whatafkncunt]

Again, I am 14, ugly and friendless.

The end, the beginning.

An impossible zit on the bridge of my nose. A hole in the belly of my shirt and at the tip of my shoe.

I am ugly and certain of it, hunched with the burden of it.

And you look at white boys and glimmer and keel.

Then turn back to me to discuss how you feel.

[whatafkncunt]

Do you fantasize in first-person?

The idea of being fucked or fucking disgusts me.

When I fantasize, I'm a camera in the corner of the room.

I'm at work and over-affected by basic decency.

It's so embarrassing; I can't even write it.

[whatafkncunt]

My sister is tired before I say hello

I talk about a show I like and she assumes I'm pressuring her to watch it

So I avoid talking about the shows I like

I go on a long-winded rant about something I care about but am not very knowledgeable about

Dead silence...

Okay subject change, I've been too much of myself

Part of the difficulty of love is it makes you want to be known

But love is inversely related to knowledge

My sister knows me so well she doesn't have the energy to love me sometimes

Or maybe this is love in its final form

Exhaustion. Disinterest. Obligation.

[whatafkncunt]

Nightmare

Freckles and brown hair.

She's a living fucking nightmare!

She's a living fucking nightmare!

Freckles and brown eyes.

A disaster on the inside.

She stares into my soul.

Why don't you just kill me?

Why do we keep meeting in the parking lot?

I don't understand you;

You only know the things you're taught.

Why do you keep running in circles?

Why do you get lost in your mind?

Why don't you just take what you offered?

Why don't you just take what is mine?

What an absolute nightmare! What an absolute nightmare!

[whatafkncunt]

I wish someone knew how to comfort me

Say hey you're right. It doesn't matter.

You don't have to succeed or fail or outdo or outlive.

The rules to this game are immoral. The rules to this game can't be changed.

Everything is over already, and even if it isn't, it soon will be.

Don't worry. There's nothing left to worry for.

[whatafkncunt]

In the end, evil wins.

We drive home in silence.

[whatafkncunt]

The year ends in carnage.

Black bodies strewn across Bourbon; an old sight now horrific.

It's different when it happens somewhere you've been.

I think about my black body heaving and bloody under the wheels.

Sweaty and determined behind the wheel.

[wizardarchetypes]

really strange how you can be almost at peace with something that happened to you but it will continue to be a defining moment of your life for the rest of your life. you wont think about it much anymore but in a conversation about a film someone will mention the year it was released and you’ll think to yourself, “that was before it happened” and you’ll see an old photo and think how strange it is to have existed before it happened and somehow it’s like living a life in two acts

[needsmoreexplosions]

I love the phrase "they get along like a house on fire". It's perfect. You and me have perfect chemistry and it's setting off the carbon monoxide detectors. People are calling emergency services to get us to stop being so chummy. Someone died

[whatafkncunt]

I looked out into the world and saw

A sea of boring faces, all

Painted quite the same and I

Felt as though I'd cry.

Until I saw yours,

A face I'd never seen before.

A face so unseemly and unlike that I

Adored it at first sight.