because I really can't do titles [or sleep] anymore.


Jack: A compilationIJack: A compilation
I am Jack's cocaine induced restlesness I am Jacks Insomnia And I fucking hate Jack Because I know that Jack doesn't know jack-shit.
II
I am Jacks uncontrollable drug binge and I am the air bubbles travelling to Jacks brain.
III
I am Jacks mold spores and I am going to fucking kill Jack


a very appropriate use of timeYesterday, I exploded I was the red giant in your Never fucking ending K-holea very appropriate use of time
And your face was so warm Or maybe it was that my hands were cold Or maybe it's just too fucking hot in here And we shouldn't be wearing clothes anymore


I never wanted to knowI don't want any part of your Skin Or the way that the hollow of you neck Probably smells Nothing like the spoiled milk that Rots next to my head every morning Something like spring - maybeI never wanted to know


I punch holes in your brainYou are horrible and ugly and beautiful You fucking ball of burning light You've already extinguished by the time I've reached you Ripe like fruit hanging heavy from your tree Intestines, and seeds, andI punch holes in your brain
shards of your viscous sugar Rotten and full, you lay broken Until the soil, greedy and dark, drinks you up.


BlacktopBlacktop
I want your blood like pomegranate sticky and thick, I presume your organs are swelled; black and brown.
Every vein coagulated and each memory a distortion of what you think could have, but did not really happen.
What really happened was that your irises lost focus, your hands were set in motion for murder, your vases became broken glass shards, water, blood.
And my fingernails split at the beds- somewhere deep inside my ribcage I have fluid; heavy like marmalade and bitter like your absence
I feel the


temporarytemporary
how about you and i r e a r r a n g e
our bone structures until we are
ignorantly beautiful and
whole again
we can speak with words made of glass, rolling off our cock


the taste of atmosphere.i.the taste of atmosphere.
caught in between electrical outlets and atoms of charged stratosphere, you ignored the burnt bridges and readied your bound parachute wings to sail us across the gaping wound that they sewed together with stitches like mountains, deep and rough and rainy.
iii.
when i was nine i forgot how to fly because i learned
the face of fear and i saw all the skeletons in her closet before i pulled my eyelids closed like blinds. but they couldn't stop my brain from skipping over the same scene in black and white, the dead flesh of an ancient grainy movi
i've spotted you spying my corner at dA, i'll be taking a look at yours now
--
"Beauty is truth, truth beauty," - that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
J. Keats
--
"Beauty is truth, truth beauty," - that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
J. Keats
--
"Beauty is truth, truth beauty," - that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
J. Keats
--
Next time you think you're perfect,
Try walking on water.
Sorry. I would have been here sooner, but the shiny saxophone of doom distracted me.
Don't be afraid to write. You can always rewrite it later.
that is quite possibly the best comment I have ever recieved
<3
--
Next time you think you're perfect,
Try walking on water.
Sorry. I would have been here sooner, but the shiny saxophone of doom distracted me.
Don't be afraid to write. You can always rewrite it later.
--
"Questo è un altro aspetto rasserenante della natura: la sua immensa bellezza è lì per tutti. Nessuno può pensare di portarsi a casa un'alba o un tramonto."
[Tiziano Terzani]
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