The mirror

There was the poet and there was her mirror
there was all the men and women who taught her how to think
in her mirror she could see through a window of her own perceptions
in her mirror she could see how to love herself
The feminists taught her to use the mirror to touch herself
To see herself more clearly

Later in life there was the poet and there the tarot and this became her mirror

classic manic

so its like, being on a wave of emotions, always up and down, the higher you rise you know there is an eventual trough equally as deep. sometimes to prevent the fall of the wave, you stay down there long enough, and you will eventually rise, but when youre on top there is a perpetual fear of falling again

i dont understand how i can be related to so much crazy

having a very classic bipolar sleepless night kinda episode.. some one give me meds

make soft

pumpkin

youre gona be like god dad or something like that.. who else is goin to enstil a distaste for society so well

Any one awake right now wana go on a drive

come on dad, gimme the car tonight,

i got this girl.. i wanna..... come on dad gimme the car

who remembers driving me home, i dont remember walking

snake bite jungle juice

remember you’re still alive, keep breathing

maybe i can eat one more plate of food before i pass out

death wishes

Love is death

Love is illogical. Or maybe that's just me

feeling god in a pool hall instead of church

i am thankful for sound and poetry and paint.. and knowing that if anything at all i have a purpose to express myself so that there can be light for others who have lived in darkness

you will soon understand what it means to go with out

you go out like rip tide

I'm sick of this perpetually empty field. I miss walking on moon dust powder fluffing up around me. I miss the infinite field. I miss your hand.

the space between you and i is rainbow spectrum

#howmanycontactscanyoulosebehindyoureye?

i cant believe i am here now it goes beyond my concepts of breath and death

In your head in your mouth in your soul... Had to think a while

and you could have it all, my empire of dirt

i need a guitar and a fourtrack something that makes loops. and a no-wave valley that is open to be explored

I like dreaming about lizards

inconsistent sleep patterns result in consistent mirage

seam ripping and stitching back together

I want to die and go to a certain kind of phish heaven

These oysters tasted like happy oysters

split divide

i felt the skin split
i did not feel any pain
i stretched the muscle tight
and pulled the tendon rigid
there was a crack that deepened and stretched wider
then i felt the tingle of my nerves
i watched the blood pool in the reservoir and then flow over
the shedding of old skin cells
forcing out new tender flesh
the chamelion skin is one of rainbow flesh
holding on to you will suffocate me
in the dawn of rebirth
there is growing pain
i have never felt this tender numbness before
these are new feelings now
this sensation is a fresh breath

i wonder if im really suppossed to be here

it was like falling asleep into a dream. 

every time i wake up im in a different place than before.

a different time, a different person. 

and when i go to bed, i dream of this consistent reality

where nothing feels right and im not really me

i can see every life i lived before

none of them carried the hurt this life carries

what did i do to make myself forget

when will i wake up from this dream and find my niche

the empty field

I'm sick of this perpetually empty field. 

I miss walking on moon dust powder fluffing up around me. 

I miss the infinite field. I miss your hand.

There used to be so much inbetween you and I.

The distance made me sick, 

the distractions sent my head spinning.

Now there is nothing, this is emptiness. 

This heart I have keeps beating, 

but only to perpetuate this convenience of life.

The inbetween the beat lulls longer these days.

The ghost inside of me is now more human than I am.

The weightlessness is becoming heavy. 

too cold to feel

Ice cold rain drops soak through to my brain
ice cicle nuerons fire my synapses frozen
dripping down my face and pin needles into my eyes
my body so numb and too cold to cry
i wonder how it will feel in the end
is that when i will finally be content
at what degree does the heart muscle stop beating?
and when does it stop feeling?
when the ice age comes my in ability to feel should proove useful