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HiatusOn the back end of a too late August, you finally caved. Richard had gnawed his blanket to tatters like my fingers; it was the fuchsias that drove you toHiatus
Distraction. Lead bulleted up my intestines, your out-called dread. I’m not saying you had it coming or going But the train bled angry bells and steel migraines had us shattered.
This is how people die. Curling themselves so tightly in Alignment, spinal and smiling, it’s all just fucked.
Amber bottles, staggered, Us across state lines written over
Mountains-- stood between us. It’s why we ended
by ~GraveDigger720
Gross and Vulgar PassionsI find myself in lust again.Gross and Vulgar Passions
These diverging passions of
the morally decrepit lie thick against my tongue, feverish eyes drawn to that carnival of
indiscretion in the lights and sounds of
our youth,
spinning,
wasted as we found ourselves then,
tilting, dizzy, through the summer
air spun cotton-candy thick against our skin,
sliding sticky sweet between our gaping jaws to
bubble up with tinny laughter and
the promise held in
the jangling allure of two brass coins pressed deep into our hands, flipped over, and
by ~GraveDigger720
Goodbye LetterYesterday I emptied out the pieces of paper you’dGoodbye Letter
shoved inside that ugly old vase standing so proud in my doorway because it knew you hated it and that, at least, was something we had in common in
the end.
And no, I don't know whether I'm speaking about you or that fucking vase but, the equation comes out pretty balanced either way which is sort of a funny coincidence because, those papers?
I spent the whole day gluing them to my wall in the shape of a heart but when they wouldn’t stick on the slick side of the peeling paint I sewed them onto my
by ~GraveDigger720
ResolutionMy greatest mistakeResolution
(I discovered only after, holding your limp white hand and wondering just how I was supposed to lift you out of the bathtub since you were no longer able to tell me what to do, because
you had decided that breathing was something you were giving up for New Years), was thinking I was ever anything profound, other than profoundly confounded. Which is just a fancy way of saying: I fucked up, and I'm sorry, and I wish you could come home again.
and I bet you'd wish so, too, if you could wish anything at all.
by ~GraveDigger720
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