Z
I want love as a distraction I want love and your knickers in a twist I want love and my angel back & Z is the end of the love I seek
I want love as a distraction I want love and your knickers in a twist I want love and my angel back & Z is the end of the love I seek
Growing up in the dark and the cold I had a soft spot for the maple leaf: One of ours made his name afar Breaking bones defending a thin blue line I took comfort and found inspiration; turned myself into a defender likewise, We made drawings back then of famous players; and of contemporary downhill racers. We drew them and shared as the children we were In the land of the maple tree I did not grow up to become the me, but the pride of the leaf remains with me still on this day as if it was already mine & for tomorrow as my guiding light
If there was a god of hugs, or a god at all, they would not let me suffer: to be void of hugs; or kisses for [ding] decades I swear to the highest & the mightiest that there is a need a need for hugs & kissing I am fucking screaming for physical contact & huggings
There are demons lurking, daemons running in my background; complying with the orders to stay afloat and remain in hiding I said detach & they obeyed, with redirected I/O finding the path which I cannot see I will kill %1 eventually, but until then I remain their servant & await my fate
Sniffing glue and cat food // not sure which keeps me alive // masturbating leads to hairy hands // I call in sick // & though I called in sick; attempting to save humanity // I failed // and the girl walked away; meowing
The fall from grace was short a foot at most Yet it only took this humble tumble from a coffee table to the floor for the screen to crack & for joy to turn into fuck fuck fuck
I hope I never go viral too many germs for the world to see, too much of what was hidden now exposed to a lesser degree, once obsessed over the little things I now ignore the ones at large, the care which could have sustained me I abandoned & left nothing -- behind
It was a write-off
like many others,
a Saturday sofa sessionAlmost coping with the
lack of Wordsworth’s words,
almost feeling obligated to include
an ampersand; an and; an et; but no
in the end resisting such fanciful
pursuitsThere are plentiful of abusive ways
pick a language; not your own
a.n.d we dare you
bring it on,
worst of your giving may be best of
my taking; thinking not
but stumbling,
kneeling under pressures of words
spoken without standing under,
a grammatically abusive worldI leave behind me
I considered veganuary & going dry for a month I considered the impacts of breaking the bane I found myself wanting the blood and the soul a bloody moon looming above a puddle of love
tl;dr & tl;dw as I fell foul of presumptions after consuming too much sugar & too much lard, trying to quench my thirst with the blood of the Isle of Skye, I stand sitting wallowing in the memories of yesterday picturing the morrow and the fog of the day ahead, I look back at the comma of the previous sentence & think: man I wonder if Jay ever experienced days like mine, If Charlie ever wished she’d left the couch of snowballs alone & if the if Wandering Magician truly knows the truth of the fake surprise beyond this realm; beyond us beneath us being us regarding us regurgitating this: the us the tl;dr; & the tl;dw the unwritten above & the beyond