-

repeated legs twist wrapper round lower parts,
sort-of locks.

.

'you come here when you have no where left to go.'

.

doe-eyed smirks and clownish grins. blistered heels. car alarms. spanish song. filthy glasses. dim-lit daylight. animist concrete. you looked me in the eye and didn't need to ask what i was doing here. i hunt with a skip in my step evading an impending doom depicted by my empty pockets and an unusually defrosted heart. a new kind of kick, a new kind of loneliness. a brutally honest introspective, void of history and ample in context. through futuristic euphoria i have freed myself of haunting nostalgia, and it's about fucking time.

-

a memory, recalled (01/2010)

i believe our first sincere kiss shared was followed with a blase take on our secret desires to maybe die, or at least not caring if such happens.

- - -

sung-under breath, explain: divorce
these things, i'm saying, i'm, like,
i mean, i feel, i really, i just, i
just cannot understand people
or at least the things that people do
for fun, or friday nights that
fray connections / unsure to bridge-burn
and talk unsweet about success, i've been
poorest poor and late-paid payments, i've been
face-dulled and eyes-glazed as usual, i've been
far too worried about you these days, i've been
desperately seeking hand-holding, i've been
myself lately and it's starting to be a problem.

-

"Persevere ye bright punk rockers."

-

the disappeared

___ ___________

.

breaking skin on street glass, dripping blood on foreign pavement, forever leaving a mark, forever making my mark. shedding hair in far-off waters, spiralling down the drain, transmitting my infection through ancient sewers, my own genetic pollution. choke myself, cough up the remnants of my sickness, spit it out on supple soil, planting my disease, allowing it to spread. shed my tears, release my toxins, accept my poison, transform my condition.