too much sugar for today–too many words doused in gasoline and hearts, and too many dust particles in the wind that travel their way up our sinuses and into our bloodstream. the cold desert we lay in is the cause of burnt bodies, and there we hope that our tears will be enough to cool them down. it seems selfish of us to inhale tobacco and sleep in lands of ice like sand; it is. but too much smoke and too much sugar up our city stained noses has dissolved any sliver of common sense.
we let the sand underneath our feet pool into our hands and onto our eyelashes. loss of vision has already occurred(don't worry!) and our souls have been weighed down by the lead of free living. there may be tangles in our hair and dirt underneath our fingernails, but existing as outlaws is what injects us with joy.
footsteps patter through barren tundras and we slip liquid gold into our throats. our teeth run over mint wind and our hands move in synchronized action with old faithful–this kind of freedom is poison as well. blood red stains the fabric of our threadbare clothing and we may never be able to breathe again.
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i feel like me updating everyday is annoying, as strange as it sounds
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paraphernalia
Poetrypretentious poetry. FOREWARNING: this was written over three years. my style changes dramatically, as does everything else. quality of pieces varies.
