i waited hours and hours for the rain and i could see the birds by my window making small calculations and drawing out plans against the sky for how this would change things but it never came. it sent the clouds ahead to survey and the storm gears ground and thunder was sound yet ultimately…

what do i do here with none to play with, in the transient hours there is nothing other than this, where have you gone with wings of fire and smoke on your lips, murder in your heart and swagger in your hips. this is what the night is then, stars with strange skittering madness i…

i miss the concrete as much as i thought it impossible, i find myself vacant here in all but wonder, i encounter great savagery and idiot tyrants and this is what my world has become, a circus of this, of these, i dream of spiders and cruel women and i awake to roaches and emptiness.…

i find that i have lost some things and my teeth are all rotting, my gut is wide with excess and though i trimmed the fat from my habits the flesh will not fade. my blood is all washed out and i sleep in doom and sweat and i know, i know you find this…

and the demons said when i woke up this morning, “wash yo hair in the sink today!” and i did, and i did, with my head upside down touching the basin with the shampoo whirlpool and the sucking sound at the bottom of the drain… so i did, and i did, and then i went…

i feel solemnly naked here in this repetition, dripping sweat loudly underneath this awful sun for now that she has gone she took shade and atmosphere and left me with this burning coil where my heart once lived. this is climate where men fight lions and murder one another should some god be watching, for…

solitude is not the killer, it is the silence, the darkness, the world without your laughter and your light that is incomprehensible. there is a quickness to my heart now that will not subside and it is in your absence that i find myself paralyzed, stricken with fear at the idea of moving through this…

breaking pills in half becomes the way to stay alive, to hold off the long fingers of poverty and obsession, keep the inevitable at arm’s length for a moment more and it is all i can do not to run straight for the sun with arms like serpents and skin of flame and angst. take…

i’m so tired, so tired, i sleep 10 hours and still i’m unbearably slow, rolling out of bed and crawling into the shower, scolding hot water for 20 minutes turning dead skin to steam and still i can’t wake up, i dream little dreams of waterfalls and soap bubble spaceships while the stink and grime…

i listen to the low hum of all the things we own and i want them to stop, everything to cease, all motors whir to an end and be still and quiet and cold, blend in with the silence and the night. i want the dark, i want the sun, fire, effigies and lightning spider…