wither, with him, within

what a strange feeling

dear stray eyelashes, ladybugs, dark tunnels, wishbones, dandelions, pennies, shooting stars, 11:11, and birthday candles, when will you do your job?

come one. come all. the circus is in town...

"People are like hounds, they sniff out your weakness, play with your pain, and will hunt you down until you worship them." WARNING: in some chapters, not all, there is adult content. You've been warned.

"Will you ever hear me in the rain?" "...?" ***** #157 in Poetry February 12, 2016 #86 in Poetry February 14, 2016

"Who's Rosaline?" "Romeo's first love." "I don't know her." "Because she was replaced and forgotten."

My astonishment orchestrates a gasp in my lungs, glues a hand to my mouth as I stare surprised at the mess on the bedroom floor who still hasn't recovered, and through this all I can only shape one sentence that sums everything up pretty well, a sentence that pains me to say. "You're sick, Lucien." All my companion does is install a narrow tunnel into his eyes, a conviction like no other. "Isn't every writer?" All Allen Ginsberg needs is a library book on rhyme and meter, things he absolutely abhors for being so ever present yet things he requires for his blog article. What he finds is rather a young librarian and writer by the name of Lucien Carr, choking on cigarettes and booze and the glamorous life of deterioration -- and just like his writing, it's quite magnificent. ~~Wattpad Featured Book 19 September, 2016~~

she stays up late at night, loving strangers from all around the world, because real boys are wicked -internet kids never die- #thepeopleofsociety

a collection of thoughts that always abruptly en