

The beauty that lives in...The beauty that lives in the world has died in me now I don't want to think or feel anymore, I don't want at all My mind is a space where things are moved, and then taken outThe beauty that lives in...
My body is a vessel for mechanisms, perpetuating how? My spine is a nervous string, cringing, limp then spring up, then fall The beauty that lives in the world has died in me now
My heart is a sponge that absorbs its sustenance; it allows That I feel shallowly, vaguely (no, not that vagueness), happy, sad, or dull My mind is a space where things are moved, and then taken out
I onc


Heartstone“I’m so sadHeartstone
I’m so sad that my heart is going to burst And bleed all over my rib cage
And when it’s finally dead and done
I’ll be skipping and humming And it will be your turn to hurt”
So I’m standing in the cold bright air Each breath I take is like a stab in the lung And I’m trying to clear the mist from my head And once it’s gone, I will feel Relieved, though a little bit empty It will all be done
But I’m softening
The rigid shoulders are slowly loosening
The cold is drawing itself like knives through my body And the fierce smile is


Room Number Thirty-FourI wonder why things have to be this way. There are walls in this house beyond the ones you can see. But they are almost visible to me, shimmering darkly in the air with the fresh glow of old memories, layered like coats of paint year after year.Room Number Thirty-Four
The year I was thirteen, we figured out my dad had been sick for the past two years. That night I was lying in bed, breathing shallowly and listening intently. In the other room were the sounds of glass breaking on the floor and murmured voices. For as long as I can remember, I have always heard murmured conversation in the “other room.” There has been a constant discussion kept up betwee
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A fairies heart beats fierce an free.
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In the end, the universe tends to unfold as it should.
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"I must remember it has always been like this: those Trojan women learning their fates; the simple sharpness of the guillotine. A filigree of cruelty adorns every culture." (Linda Pastan A Rainy Country)
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Man's Best Friend. [link]
My Photography. [link]
My Stock. [link]
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I have a pocket sun boy
I\'m everything that burns in you...
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Tread softly because you tread on my dreams
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