(no subject)
there is a mixed drink that has been flirting with my hand for long enough that i've gone and forgotten. it seems like there was a time when it was covered with a frosty condensation; a time when there were enough voices that you cannot afford the choice of listening to your own. and is that your every night? damn. today sought a boy with a profound thought to share with his community. no i'm sorry, today you are not that boy. i can live with it. something else is boiling. the drink. the expanse. fourteen hours of water would kill any man but it wont kill me. and you know the exchange rate and you know the t.o.c. and then there is always the sink. the taste. the flavor. erased. and then 21 has me alone. 21 has its way with me. and maybe thats guilt bc you let it. damn straight its guilt. 21 is my mother mary and i'm letting her hold me in front of a manger. i wore my habit outside and was buried alive. luckily, i conveniently stopped caring about my quality of air. q.o.a. if you will. and if you wont, well...
deep subject.
deep subject.