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dotsJournal: dots
Mood: The Usual

... wish you'd stop.

...Created 2008-07-31 07:04:21

dotsJournal: dots
Mood: The Usual

...Created 2008-07-18 16:44:33

dotsJournal: dots
Mood: The Usual

wisteria knows, the way
grandmothers know. mid-week
brunches are flights
of mercy. jesus never did
dine with the worthy. i suppose
that makes you + me okay, at least

...Created 2008-06-21 03:13:34

dotsJournal: dream?dots
Mood: The Usual

Toes were cold that night. Toes were cold and the tops of feet were bruised.
Ice in lungs; trapped bird in chest:

We ran under the moon until our molecules were dispersed from here to the end of the continent. I don't want to be here, she coughed under fluorescent lamplight, when we stopped. When the demons we fled finally left us, and ice collected in our insides.
A nod of a head, a pat on the shoulder. Awkward. What to do? my mind wondered. She's that independent, self-sufficient animal that you can see is running toward the highway, but trying to stop her will inspire her indignance and she'll just run away sooner.
So my hands tied themselves in knots as she sobbed and choked and her eyes froze shut. And soon she was pushing me off the sidewalk while a fanfare trumpeted. I tumbled down a fire escape that led to the guts of hell.

I'm writhing under the heat. The wretched, painful sounds of people being boiled alive is the devil's marching band.
Hollow, sick, echoing.
But at least it's warm...

(hahahahaha i need to stop sleeping.......)

...Created 2008-06-16 23:49:50

dotsJournal: dots
Mood: The Usual

Well that didn't last long.

...Created 2008-06-13 20:45:35