spiders in my mouth, spiders on your face

i checked my phone until six in the morning.

if i could take this back, i'd do it all the same. and that's what kills me.

i am the worst of all.

i will take the knife out of your side while you sleep.

i slipped.

i am the worst of all.

clunk

everything goes the way i want : ex. the car crash.

gnarly actions

you tell me i can have any girl in this room,
i tell you that i only want you.
you kiss me,
but don’t look convinced.
you kiss me again and again and turn away.

“can you hear me?”

3/5ths of pbs

at marcello's in streetsville

seedlings

we sat like house plants
watered down and staring out of windows
stretching for the light to give us a sign of hope.

we've waited all winter
to move out in the summer
into a basket full of holes.

so we can be filled up
shined on
drained
and replaced
by the next seedlings staring out of windows.

fingerbang

friend #1 : "as my grandma always used to say : fingers away from the alcohol..."

friend #2 : "did your grandma only have one finger?!"

yeti projects

peace be still


war crimes


warsaw uprising


black presidents


werewolf/vampire


small talk

sweet dreams

lying in bed with my computer screen open.
so i can type in my sleep.
all of the things i see and sometimes hear.
like her face in my head telling me she's going to break my fucking hands if i leave.

the phone rings.

"hi, are you sleeping?" you said
"yuuuh i'm so tired i'm going to go back to sleep so i can write about my dreams as they come," i said
"but i wanna listen to you sleep," you said

i tried counting sheep but ended up faking zz's and snoring for half an hour

"sweet dreams," you said

before the tone of the telephone reminded me that i wasn't talking to anyone.