it makesit makes my eyes hot everytime that i hear iti know without doubt it was written for ustwohundredandtwentysix seconds elapse andi think to myself, how many more millionsof seconds-that-turn-into-minutes-that-stretch-into-hours-tofill-up-the-days will go by until it's complete.It's worth the wait.
friday.you're so calm on the surface.percept of lucidity preludes calamity andsomehow, you think you know my intentions.ha.placid, unlike the lake, hardly describes all but the surface.
ii write to feelaccomplishedyet,what have i accomplished this time,besides the restatement of theobvious.there is nothing i can do short ofyieldingto the somewhat tangible measurethat we use to calculate thedifference betweennowand what will be.
Song.Hello familiar face,with all the groundwork you'veprovidedi'm not quite sure why youleave me stumbling, butnevertheless i'm here.i've arrived and so have youand right in the nick of time.we bypass the customary exchangesso sublimation can run its courseand of course the consequences werenever a consideration.tick. tick.How could you even think for aminute that you were the innocent one?Hello again, familiar facei'm waving goodbye with theblink of my eyestick. tick.How could you even think for aminute that you were the innocent one?
A Series of Untitlement: 8i try my best to describeand hope to God youunderstandat least a little bitso i can extract the closurefor which i write.
A Series of Untitlement: 7my chest risescapsizesi cant be the one to breathe forboth of us
A Series of Untitlement: 6i've been seeking to elaborateon words i've yet to speakand searching for the silencein between your hollow cheeks.
A Series of Untitlement: 5Because there's beauty in the dormancywhen life is standing stillthe colors stay, and wont bleed outwhen everything else willAnd just because there's silencedoesn't mean that life is gonethis sleep will be awaken, newwhen skies revert to dawn.
confess.Good morning, jail celli'm sure you slept wellnight seems much longerin times of distressconfess son,confessit's got you by the throatand God only knowsyou're choking to death.
ifiwasif i wasasked to recount from asingle experience,rather thancollectiveconglomeratei'd refuseentirety is so much more thehonor to draw from.
i don'ti don't claim to be eloquentthough your eyes rest upon me andmove along like you already know meand i guess you doi guess you doand i can't claim these words to be my ownthough i wish i couldcause they already said everything i've beenwanting to scream for yearsundying,over and overindistinguishable, butever present.i want to run all these songs togethercompressed into one stream.indelible and audible.and i want you to listen, andextract that which you'd wish to keep.the words aren't mine.but you can have them.
Final.There's so much of theraw materialfrom which to work, thatI don't even know where to begin.But nevertheless, I have.It's not so hard to incorporatethe ambiguityas it is to preserve coherence,But nevertheless I manage.And by manage, I reference only asingle attemptfor I dare not try thismore than onceOnce is all I ever needed to decide.
Doubt'sDoubt's shadow wasnot a silhouette,but not quite beyond areplication of Its originalform.
wait.i'm still herebut that's irrelevancecause you're still miles awayin theorywe have all the time in the worldbut the measure of time isa theory unto itself.so all i can do is wait.
i sit.to kill time is towaste itwhy is waiting such a burdenandimpatience such a pre--necessityin the chain of events,now seems like forever.it will be like a speck in therelative emphatic order,not even worth the mention.so,i sit.
if i'mif i'mreaching fordesperation as a last resort,let it be known that theprevious was meaninglessto spur what now occurs:maybe if i tryin sincere honestythe ends will justify the means.is the burden mine?or has it already been carried?the text holds no answer tothis one.But,i'm sure the author knows.
CoblentzHello little gemyou sparkleyou shinebut you sure aren'tmineyou belong to thewoman who's nowin the groundshe sleeps in silenceshe makes not asound.you're beautiful for your age.
vigilance.a bullet was firedin front of my facebefore i could argue my causeand just as the smoke slitheredout of the guni realized he'd broken no laws.
he said-she said.i'm sorry you came all this waybut i'll have to ask you to leaveten thousand is the standard thresholdand i'm sure you're the cause ofmany moredid you not know thatits not my fault but ratheryours, yoursshe says "permanence" like adirty wordand nothing else can change her mindi know that i sure cant,but maybe she'll forget that factcause nothing else can change her mind.
Enn Eye Vee.but oh, i'd say that yourredemptive qualitiesoutweigh whatever guilt you maytry to scrape updon't even start, just don't even startDid you not knowall it is that He gave up wasnot in vain.cause you make references to thebruises that have fadedyou need to stop havingconversations with the deaddon't even start, just don't even startDid you not knowall it is, in pain He gave wasnot in vain.
The Pretender.Whatever you say goes.Where?I'm not quite surebut it must go somewherebecause you seem pretty sureCourage I have notI pretend.
rinse and repeat.this cleansingis characteristic unlike anyotherits purification rivalsexistence in its entirety.
i wasi was buried in thesix mile stretch betweenhere and God knows wherealong with any chance to somehowrectifywhat was already in the past.it's a little too late nowbut bones speak more than theformer musculature couldever say.
dslr.it's not enoughto merely capture with the eyeseach pixel retained is a handful of sand.
a collisiona collision ofpassivity and passionwill never result inresolve at all,but rather theoil and waterkeep a balancebetween what can and can't be mixedthe latter prevails every time.
it worksthe pretty little spark thatmeans nothing[except for the expected electricpower source to the bulb]is not the sole indication,howeveri did manage to unplug the light as ileft the roomand it was filled with darkness.
No.there are mirrors all aroundbut i see myself not onceinvoluntary avoidance,i wonder?maybe the cause isjustifiedin the angled reflection thataimsmissesmy closed eyelids.openclosed.the shutter blinks.bloodshot?not on purpose.i would never let you bethe cause.
Sta.sh
