BBPrism

as celebration goes my friends we are a piss-poor nation of trees who stare at the river going by drunk with sullen eyes and stoic arms why not celebrate! slice cut drive bore bore bore into the mud with angry slap happy stick on a log in a swamp of confetti s   p    r       a         y    e  d all over yes yes and dance dance flip fly over the heads of all those angry poor bushes and their bonnets of bees who cry to their mothers the queen all hail because of some poor party celebrate celebrate bear who ran into the work place office hive complex tower because he had forgotten where he left his keys but he didnt care no no and he

I just saw a ghost today; her features transposed in the passing. gold lines sharpened smooth skin into ice burning in sunrise fire, reflecting a life that had been there before in the pools of her eyes. the blacks were darker than I remembered. a mouth like the moon, echoing distance; memories escaped my lips in a wordless sigh tossed to the wind, falling to the ground as bitter snow cold, burying her feet, creeping over the hem of her dress. as I approached, stumbling and desperate, she turned a marble face. her eyes flickered to the trees beyond me, their skeleton fingers in the air. they were eternally trying to touch the

deAr sir;! i had looked once [(1)-ce] thru 1ce to SEe my                        fUTure                        ; anD –                             i,fe                        -l-                            l                  in2            a simple [DISAGREE   angry but//tERfly                       fra,c                           )tal!  [MENT -after all.-     AFTALLER, wE'Re'   on1y!                 aL(L                    ow!-                     …edso/                                 /mUch,                [ONe.]

A sanctuary -- the waters lay dormant, breathing the stagnant air of the dried rattles as a thousand sighs let go – one more long day; the sun rises above the walls, and the desert hisses. Shouts slither over the brown dusty walls; sheep rattle dumbly, the chaos of carts bash the stones, and market cries ring bright clean through the throng that pushes its way into the old, waking city. But not into here – as a thousand heads stare at one another, at the clean water; searching for a wave and murmur to shatter the silence of a thousand dying lungs, dying days and years. Their breath reeks of affliction worming from their mo

this black night screams empty murder the cold killing as autumn drops her leaves and stands naked shivering sputtering pleading please please her eyes are frigid with diamonds slithering slipping aching down her scarred bare cheeks burning and ice sharpens his shimmering daggers dangling in this freezing bloody black night as the first snow falls around autumns frozen ankles her roots so deep and soil turns to muddy ash soot strangles her skeleton hair she stands quiet nervous hollow with her breasts sagging frozen as this chill night skulks behind us hunting for the perfect time to kill us all

I wish I knew what was going on in your mind; some things are simply too hazy, like an early morning by the river – too big to change or understand, and too invisible to accept without seeing. hundreds of miles is nothing any more; traveling through a day to see the base of mountains stretched out into the sky, asking to be forgiven and to be held by the clouds again. I want to go to the mountains again. I know my heart for once; it is standing firm against the odds that it'll make sense sooner than it really should – I look west. my eyes fade into the horizon, where the golds turn ruby and purples become the deafening blac