For: Her

"I can't recover here"
Well, neither can I

I get tired and mean. But I still gotta have you.

Today you were far away. I didn't ask you why. What could I say? I was far away.
You just walked away. And I just watched you.

Dammit, fuck, no, this can't be happening

I am going to join the lovely her.
That would be my last note.

However long or short out lives are going to be-
I will live in you and you will live in me.

I hope you rot.
I hope you're exposed.
Well, I'm glad to hear that.
Well, I'm glad to hear that.

I'm leaving because of you.
I'm leaving and I'm not coming back.

I NEVER LOVED YOU
I NEVER HAVE
I NEVER WILL

It made you cry.
It brought tears to your eyes.
Am I that fucked up?

I hope you rot.

I should've died the first time
I should've killed you when I had the chance

Used to be one of the rotten ones and I liked you for that.

Now you're all gone got your make-up on and you're not coming back.
Can't you come back?

A Mighty Wind

I am traveling towards blue mountains.

The heat burns me while the mighty winds medicate.

I start the path of civility.

Surrounded by America, I begin to feel the founding spirit.

It's beautiful.

Java Lounge 3/27- White

Head rush.
Flashing lights.
Translucent memories.
Empty existence.
Bon Iver.
Hidden glow behind the mask.
Expressionless beauty.
The unqualified color.

Protect the lifeless

She begins the six-step walk to her car, the killing machine. Snap, click, skid, snap, click. This is her life now. She activates the vehicle, its roaring engine electrocuting her pain. Today is the greatest day that she will ever know. Nobody will listen to the rest. She starts to drive. She halts at the upcoming stop sign. “Why? Obviously no one else does.” She cannot feel— her body is trapped in ice. “It is done. Continue with your life. Just move on.” She stops the car in front of her recently emptied four-bedroom house. She moves along, wondering if she can still call herself a mother.

Clock, Tick, Clock

Time
Heals everything.
Scratch that.

Time, love.
Time, forgiveness.
Time, education.
Time, cancer.

You're being timed.Stop.

Time gone.
What were you waiting for?

Black Bile

I am going mad again.

Mad, Mad, Mad

I was certain there were bigger plans for me.

I don’t think I will recover. I can’t fight it.

My last mortal thought: I think I will buy the flowers myself.

Shock, Daze, Mess

Where do you go
When you want to begin?

Where do you go
When you’re just about done?

Where do you go
When you want sanctuary?

Where do you go
When you want to let go?

Where do you go
When you need somebody?

Where do you go
When all you want is isolation?

Where do you go
When it’s just too much?

Where do you go?

Invisible Romance

“Excuse me.”
“Hello.”
Hello, I wondered if that was meant to be rude or the beginning of a relationship.
“What floor?”
“Seventh”
Dumb question, the Seven is already shining meaning I have six floors to figure out if the greeting was in result of my impudent behavior or a date. She is now looking at me, but it seems she is looking through me, or above me. Should I turn? I do, and she looks away.
Five floors.

“Excuse me.”
“Hello.”
I hope he didn’t find that rude, I didn’t intend for it to be rude.
“What floor?
I thought I felt that I pressed seven. “Seventh.”
I feel him at my side. I wonder what he looks like.
One bump passed, five floors left.

She looks at me again. We are at the third floor so I decide to catch her stare. She is looking at my shirt. God, I knew I should have worn a different shirt. Fourth floor, and she looks down as if she was feeling the movement.

He smells handsome. The third bump passes and I can sense him looking at me, so I look up and wonder if he is thinking of me. Fourth floor.

Fifth.
Six.

Seventh floor and the doors open, she hesitates as she steps forward and touches the door’s frame. What if she wants me to go with her? What if this girl is it? She looks down and walks away slowly as if she is disappointed. Should I say something? Should I follow her?

The elevator stops as I start to walk the twenty-two steps to my door. I hold on to the door to make sure I won’t trip and make a fool of myself. As I count the steps, I hear a familiar voice behind me.