blowing smoke: have i told you how i feel?
a new collection
Another sunny day. New life. Far. Need to get a tattoo or something. To shake up the feeling. Things are coming: good things Spring but is that enough? What to do when home isn’t anywhere but with the people you love in a fucked up country: I slept really good. It was really nice In dreams I am home. A relief.
˚⋆𓇼˚⊹ 𖦹 ⁺｡°
404 error (life not found) two weeks tied a thread around my finger i am not who i was nor who i will be. it is both a blessing, half bottle under my arm and a curse, can’t quite cover up __i am raw, and do not know when i will be somethingotherhard to swallow, sort of like limbo in the dark i am not quite certain if everything before is still relevant, now does the moon remember my name?
don’t ask me for answers,
unless it is a Tuesday and i have the plans settled
and am sitting with that green mug i lost
three houses ago
don’t ask me for answers
when you know my life is shaped like a
badly phrased question
nights spent with dusk, blood
like liquor
liquor like love
don’t ask me for answers.
i’m coming undone
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it was bathed in gray and not the fifty shades kind, although maybe that was the other option i can never tell. instead i chose the room by the cemetery the city that dreams of sun as if it is a distant lover and now we are both bathed in gray sort of like a half-broken promise for i am still here, and you but summer slipped down our throats and you can’t bare to look back while i walk the cemetery, searching for somewhere we aren’t still bathed in gray.
thank u for reading my baby poemz⋆.˚ ☼⋆𓇼｡𖦹˙༄.°
blood orange wine: the kind you always liked. every lover like a second chance do i still have the taste, the same tongue for blood or have i outgrown what we pretend we love.
This is beautifully written. Thank you bro
“sitting with that green mug i lost three houses ago” so good. growing up is a lot of remembering who you were and where you were before in comparison to now