26-twilight-october drowningThe dream starts at twilight, when everything seems to meld together, as if skyscrapers were originally meant to jet up into the stars. It’s October; the significance of this, she never really quite understood. Maybe it was the way the air felt in her lungs then. She stands on a rotted log, looking out over the lake; it used to seem massive and all encompassing, until she saw the ocean. Even with the frigid water lapping at the seam of her dress, the proximity of the lake never really sinks in. She doesn’t think of anything more than the simple word, “evaporate”, as she slowly wades into the black water; unaware,26-twilight-october drowning
25-keria-polaris spinningmarching towards roads control slowly leaving my fingertips draining into bottle lips the beauty of flying 80 miles an hour down roads i've never seens grasped and let go laying in the middle of the road watching the world spin as i hear leaves crunching and my name called smiling all disappears i melt i melt i remember what it's like to feel loved and now everything is warm even the toes i swore i had lost feeling in laying there i want more this feeling should never leave and yet it must it isn't suppose to be25-keria-polaris spinning
24-beginnings of anticlimactictime stands incredibly exhausted and motionless [when do i hand my mom this homemade thank you card and tell my dad to fuck off] watching my bloated self from above nothing changes all remains mundane and horribly mediocre every skin shed lays obsolete [i don't feel anymore alive than yesterday] anticipation will last the next three months when everything is lost and gained and started over [repeatedly] i don't want to shake hands i don't want to open my eyes waiting for the curtain to fall time exhausts itself slowed24-beginnings of anticlimactic
23-washington parkshe waits trying to foresee, him next to her, in 30 years but then remembers the third date is when she gets home green benches seem to beckon to his presence as she keeps asking whether or not she likes him or just the idea of not being alone, anymore the concept of being wanted she basks in the glow of thursday afternoon haze chai burning her tongue gleefully counting days until she’s home and then back to green benches and washington park; alone this she knows.23-washington park
ha! yeah...
