Drowning.

Impossible to me to reach out and feel the heat of you. I dig my fingers tight around you, desperately pulling. Fighting the flow and feeling the slippery bottom. Going under and nearly sharing on your outcome. Return and help me emerge out of this dark hollow. Give me a chance to fullfil your desire, don't plunge us into this cold flowing darkness.

Inside

[Given up trying to find the fresh side of desperation. It's but an endless walk down a path of regret.]
[Gladly I come bringing your happiness. Follow me or stay, I have made up my mind. Gladly come with me or it will tear my heart.]

Tomorrow...

Tomorrow comes fast. It gains swiftly upon the slow, hungry to run them over. It's oblivious to the anxiety of its arrival. It charges ahead, rushing to do its job.

End.

I've given over to the funny declarations that the life that is expected doesn't always come to be. It's a way to allay the further manisfestation that what you want in life will never be. It's the cruel confirmation that for you it is not what you want. The heavy exhortations of those close to you serve simply to suffocate whatever internal motivation to find out your own path.

April Fool!

What did you think was going to happen? March ended and nothing changed. Don't believe the fantasies. Life is only a harsh rebuke. Suffer and shrivel! In life we bleed. April Fool!

Nuclear Everyday

The nuclear everyday has become commonplace. The radioactivity report is given by the cheerfull morning show hostess. Next is a report on the success of the underground farming efforts. Later on an interview with a young couple the latest procedures will be explained for sexual relations in the nuclear everyday.

Snow

Hidden beneath the snow, a thousand souls sleep. On any other time, a warming feeling. This day the snow only serves to blanket a thousand last gasps. On this day of darkness, mother earth served to remind us of the price hitchers owe.

March!

Tentative steps echo among the concrete slabs. March! Flowing among the days as they triple around you. Add the weight of movement as the moments flow. March! A month of uncertainty. 31 steps to March is a long space to span. Only a 1/3 of the way there.

Eden

Gravity spares no bone. Embrace me painfully Eve. She lacks a rib because Adam wanted to screw. It's a Paradise lost for innocence.

Saint Valentine's Blood Red.

Saint Valentine's blood red stream. Drowning, weighed down heart. Arrow's crimson trail betrays my steps, I stumble. Saint Valentine's blood red stream steaming. I brace as my feet falter. Stumbling blind I crumble. Saint Valentine's blood red, he finds me.

Sheets

Sleeping alone doesn't give me a chance to mess up the sheets in the proper ways. Alone I just crumple them so without much passion. It's just my single limbs jerking around without any fashion.

Time

Given time, I would steal some of the little things left in your secret places. Given time, they would be mine to squirrel away from you.

In Thirty Days.

In thirty days I've seen the world turn in places tossing around my earlier wishes in disarray. 30-days of newfound expectations trampled under feet of feral machinations. The old man's hold on the new flesh tightens.

My Space.

Laying around waiting. I fear it ended without me.
Lovely time spending, a subtle amount of cash waiting.
I didn't want to let you see me playing around the tables, admiring the other gals in waiting. Where is it going if not into my pocket, the unused rubber melting? I don't think it is making any more sense than you expected.

Gals with mikes.

Simply watching gals with mikes. A female front, it punches. Greater beauty of sound, a delicate voice thunders. Gals with mikes.

Quietly sitting as you make me regret it.

I pleaded with you to take me forever. You didn't pretend you even wanted to. Leave me, if you see fit. I would not hold it against you. It'd be quicker to slice my throat and watch me fall. It's not much of a stretch to say, Taylor Swift has nothing on these romances!

High Profile

Arcane thoughts trouble some people, but it's not a reason to strike out at them.

New Year

New Year rising, slowly moving. Coming around the curve sliding. Many new things ahead. I am dragging. New Year rising with me in tow.

Merry Christmas to me...

Ok, it wasn't so bad. I had a cold and spent the blessed days in a sneezing stupor coughing up my misery in sticky globs. The endless loop of the raging fireplace failing to warm me, I danced wearily down the channels of jolly repetition lost in my own endless "A Christmas Story."

That time of the year again...

It's Christmas time, a beautiful sensation. The cold fingers of desolation clamping on my throat. They squeeze out the jolly good frustrations for Santa to see. It's not enough that he knows if I am good or bad, he has to see too I am miserable too.