| so what |
[23 Apr 2006|02:56am] |
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these days it feels as if my spine is attempting to make a full loop. these days i've been trying to appreciate things i usually take for granted, like soft cushiony surfaces, the satisfaction of drinking cold water, or being able to hold my pee. these days i'm always wondering if someone in the world is doing the very same thing as i am at the very same time. these days, i don't feel like myself when i'm around other people; i every so often am surprised to what comes out of my mouth as i speak.
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| yeah uhuh |
[14 Feb 2006|10:25pm] |
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my hair is falling out, i'm not sure if i notice it more because i obsessively vacuum them up now that i have a dust buster. when i take a shower, i take all the loose hairs and stick them to the tile. i like the different patterns the thin lines create, but i don't like looking at how much hair i'm losing.
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| negotiable persistence |
[26 Oct 2005|02:33pm] |
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these days, the currents are slow and rhythmic, except for the earthquakes. here and there and back and forth and she stands to see everything falling around her; almost mangled enough to call it broken. the parents are watching her but she sways her hair as she walks, grinding her teeth. she watches them, too. how the adults divide into children and how that will never happen to her when there is so much sky and so little ground. she's huffing and puffing and when everyone is quiet, the world is so lovable.
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| sinister mother |
[25 Mar 2005|06:54pm] |
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sometimes, i wish the moon's size would fluctuate according to my mood.
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| crate create |
[24 Mar 2005|01:20pm] |
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if i had remembered what i had in my head last night, i wouldn't feel so doubtful that regret always gets the best of me. i'm back in this room, wearing other peoples' jackets, trying to sniff out every bit of what they've left. it's really just that i miss this human interaction, i miss the skin on skin thing; the kind that makes your toes curl.
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| your replacement |
[02 Mar 2005|10:55am] |
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i'm yawning like a bad dream; i am not so; not so precious anymore. i'm sorry your skin is so thin, i mean i can be a bit persuaded at times when i'm hydrated, ready to break it clean. vagrant greys are hibernating in nature yet i can't seem to get the right grip to firmly attach my hands to your discretion, or was i supposed to gradually consider being a permanent part of you? i can hear the future days drooling all dressed up looking pretty; i can't hold my tongue and instead i flop around like a fish but it's stuck in my head, i'm too skinny to be hungry.
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| slip like some |
[26 Feb 2005|03:15am] |
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i'm sick of the palm trees in my backyard. gulls sway and for once i don't stare for more than a minute; this place is old of remembrance and the way my mouth dies out whenever i speak reminds me of gulping in air and wishing i had gills instead. the blues aren't crisp anymore, maybe it's my eyes, i don't even care. i have cuts on my hand and for once they're covered.
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| gulping resonance |
[08 Feb 2005|02:29pm] |
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i will leave soon, and i say this like it means anything. i counted three birds outside her window, as silent as awkward can get. bed sides are open, and i'm hoping things won't be this way anymore; when i come back i expect to bring a part of you and then maybe everything else will follow, everything will be in place.
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| mumble fuss |
[05 Feb 2005|12:32am] |
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it was eight times that we rotated, almost in unison, but it rarely works out that way. sometimes, everything is a blur, but not now, things are so vivid i feel i know the next movement and turn. i dream of older brothers and older sisters, i dream of wrapping myself and dunking my head under water; i sort through conversations that mean nothing, words can be so useless. i am listless, but i'm getting there; eight slow days makes me realize how unprepared i am.
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| visual breed |
[02 Feb 2005|01:32am] |
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my ten fingers pressed against the constellation on your back, i forget how rubbery skin is sometimes. mouths broken; the words don't get too far before they're rendered useless, it doesn't really matter, these lights burn bright for a reason. pastels are running down your back, dripping for some attention; i'm so willing to let it, gather around my ankles thinking, ten is an important number.
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| oval guests |
[26 Jan 2005|03:29am] |
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under the street lights hovering are the shadows that cover us, the wait of foiled adventures, too late to remember the details, too heavy going up. it's broken, guides that stood behind our mouths, no safety can secure the little wrists that cling so desperately. we drool, brevity gets the best of us, plush walls bend in and we're a mess again; it's been a while since the days ended so quickly. i miss the moon, calendars are useless; your body is a plate of crumbs...this is how we are together or at least the way i imagine it.
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| you eat it. |
[19 Jan 2005|02:19am] |
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it crunches beneath my feet, the teeth that bit into my extremities, they're out. i gave what was believed to be my most precious moment, to a stranger that intended such grace, i don't need those anymore, not ever. i dream of softer songs and the way 24 days goes by so slow, what is it about time that makes everything so inopportune? i'm home, it's warm and its cream colored carpet is waiting; i hope to leave soon, rest is never a problem.
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| hinges |
[14 Jan 2005|12:47am] |
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the codes, they're unbearable; like the cold, straight to my veins, pulsating against my will. it's gone again, the numbness that guided me through, the security it gave, gone but anxious to return.
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| how's the reception |
[11 Jan 2005|12:42am] |
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it screams my name, the weakness in the walls, they're ready to collapse. my organs twitch, they writhe for something, something i don't have, something i want without knowing. it's bare, the sun on my skin and the crooked pillars, nothing reads right, nothing breathes the way its supposed to. the floors are cold here, the rooms are empty here, truths aren't taken seriously enough these days, i'm tired and you don't seem to be around.
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| crawl |
[31 Dec 2004|03:37am] |
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i've never been so far from home; everything feels heavy and drained. the way they glisten, the gash and cold gems screened for sins less than the blood that came with it. cradle girls, hips and down, moans and groans of dripping lips; the pace fastens itself to rhythm to part.
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| planks |
[27 Dec 2004|01:16am] |
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your constant urge to peel, those bedsheets and the walls spinning without thinking about the edges, pressed together. like a drained number, or tolerated detachment, i will hug this silence; everything mushed underneath. your insides paint everything solid gold, if you only knew the softer version, untainted and pure, i'd have continuous dreams and a willing atmosphere.
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| black pig |
[24 Dec 2004|09:26am] |
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the necessity to overlook the smoothness in the air, how it drips into my system; how hungry the world seems of engulfing what is ours, decaying hum. it's in us, we merge together so well, pastey white walls, bend in and secure me, they crave attention; secrets are so hard to keep here. the way your eyelashes flicker when i place my lips on your eyelids, makes me think in threes and fours, geometric formulas, numbers, repeat. it's on its way, that week is on the tip of our fingers, i can feel the smoothness and grooves. it repeats, it grows.
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| for the grip that lasted |
[09 Dec 2004|12:34am] |
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i haven't found the right words to muster the thoughts that seem to have control of me; it seems that i may be losing. there are people that i want to get to know but something is always holding me back, i walk out the door; i walk into the portal. i'm awake, always awake - i want to see you bleed all over, all over this creamy carpet. phantom hull, i can hear it call my name, just a little part of it, how i wish to cup my hands over your eyes and it will be over; this silence will be over.
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| down ago. |
[05 Dec 2004|02:04am] |
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these months are rolling by, and i can feel the cold air in my lungs; i can feel the false sense of joy each time i exhale, the smiles on people's faces, the way words spill onto the concrete ground. december is a month that i've become to numb to, there are people without families, without the riches some of us value so deeply; but with rough hands thick enough and easy to break, they are human, they have no one, and here i am in front of this computer, wrapped safely around these walls, wishing to be better, wishing you were happy.
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| how it is. |
[16 Oct 2004|06:38pm] |
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mundane and sweet; that's the way the day unravels when i think of her. tremors up and down my bones, i can't figure out which words should be said to describe this feeling. i'm alone, but nights like these if i think hard enough, i'll remember the past, because back then i slept easier; i wake up only to find myself distracted upon thoughts of her, the way she intends such a comfort zone. it's time to grow up, figure out why i said the things i did, or rather, why i didn't say how i truly felt; but that's too late, a part of me is gone and i just want out.
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bloodsunshine's journal