i am 26 today.

these days

i feel drained. i need to spend some time with myself.

heavy

there's a lead lined hole in my chest.

it weighs me down everyday.

i feel it when my lungs expand and contract.

i'm waiting for it to kill me.

i think it might happen in my sleep sometime.

or possibly when i'm walking to the train.

the hunter

i have an addiction.

ever present. all consuming.

it makes my palms sweat and heart race.

adrenaline junky.

it hides behind ink-covered musculature. it grabs me from behind.

- sneaky.

i have a habit i don't know how to kick.

life sucking. life giving?

and it makes me hunt it.

sharpened eyes. sharpened talons.

i am its predator. i sense it everywhere.

grasping. clutching. groping. catching.

i take it by its heart and make it mine.

savory bliss. savor a kiss.

you bike riders/glasses wearers/Smiths listeners cannot hide.

fix.

15 minutes at the green eye

moments of silence breed your memory as a newborn regret to cradle.

when i am alone in stillness, i am harassed by the still-ness in my heart.

still wish you were here-ness.

still have so many what ifs-ness.

still hope you will come back-ness.

i create memories that never were in new places i go.

you felt like there's no love without sacrifice.

i shed tears and sacrifice myself on your altar daily.

the things that never were are what i miss most.

thoughts while listening to Radiohead on shuffle

full moon, just post-twilight sky.

breathe in and release.

it's the beginning of "that time" again.

(listening to exit music from the start this time,

just to be sure i get it right this time.)

first few autumn nights.

inhale and release.

just trying to see a few stars.

(trying not to disappear completely this time.

trying not to, "but for a minute, i lost myself" this time.)

clear skies, cool breeze.

suck it in, blow it out.

hand holding opportunity.

(not gonna rush it this time.

gonna do it just right this time.)

cutcutcut

she sees only that which she is not supposed to see.
vision is her scalpel; she cuts through scenes precisely.
she discards the scraps wrecklessly.
she has never recomposed them into a different picture.
she has exacto-ed her way to a world without fluff.
unrefined defines simplicity.