Streaming Fire
(this resembles crap--but it may be something later, who knows)
(freewrite, free association)
Why do I think in fire
as I lick the stones
and bleed the time?
Why is it all so vauge? So heavy yet empty of light, so far from darkness as to glitter...
Hollow moth eaten imagrey grown weary from crawling the page hungry and depraved, sunken quick and low down far fast gone, gone over too far the edge is gleaming against the periphery of my vision and I feel I can't dig any further but somehow...
I can. I should. I have to.
It goes beyond wanting to.
It is in the need to.
Someone wants to speak. Someone wants to be.
This someone is not me.
It never was.
So what more do I need to fill the silence? I need radio noise and voices worming through all the water and slinking snaky indifference. I hate that I hate most everything. It is only a hindrance to sit and smirk when I could be dancing through the streets alone forever behind forever lagging forever too far ahead to give a passing glance and at passers by.
(freewrite, free association)
Why do I think in fire
as I lick the stones
and bleed the time?
Why is it all so vauge? So heavy yet empty of light, so far from darkness as to glitter...
Hollow moth eaten imagrey grown weary from crawling the page hungry and depraved, sunken quick and low down far fast gone, gone over too far the edge is gleaming against the periphery of my vision and I feel I can't dig any further but somehow...
I can. I should. I have to.
It goes beyond wanting to.
It is in the need to.
Someone wants to speak. Someone wants to be.
This someone is not me.
It never was.
So what more do I need to fill the silence? I need radio noise and voices worming through all the water and slinking snaky indifference. I hate that I hate most everything. It is only a hindrance to sit and smirk when I could be dancing through the streets alone forever behind forever lagging forever too far ahead to give a passing glance and at passers by.