I do not matter


even fire is weightless.

in on secret out on whim

You are,

You are,

Sow enough.

You bring,

You bring,

to the table

a whim.

No butter, no pepper,

no focal, no salt.

Wings are fatter

on an aeroplane

than on-you.

How the wax wanes-cruel.

I subsist to suppress

the rainfall in my chest.

If I knew you better


that’s what I’d suggest.

an actual fucking diary entry

January 14, 2019

I won’t be voiceless, I won’t be still. I won’t clog the drain with memory. I won’t penny the bargain. I will outrun the mill. I won’t bedtime a stargaze or mourning a must. I will love myself to renegade. A gentle, gentle dusk. I had a good day and it made me feel fancy. I had a cruel day and it made me dream dead. I had a night, too, do I mention so full? I had a day. I had a day. Ain’t it simple? Ain’t it nice? So everyone in your quarters heard you, eh? Out growing your limbo and settled decay? Oh, don’t you let it matter! Don’t you linger! Don’t you gaze. You’re all THAT and a bag of GLOWBUGS! Jack has his philosophy and morning has her riddle. I can’t stand it, can’t stand it, can’t stand it! THAT BRITTLE, BRITTLE-middle.

My spit is due dialogue. Diligent bleakness! A bleakness that’s ready to strike! Ready to crochet! Ready to rhyme.

I won’t be useless, I won’t be filled. I will out with it, till the tantrum fits. Oh, mother! Oh, mother of dew! Make love to my lashes and see something new! I wanna be better. Better than fine. I want to die. Just for the thrill of ringing in dirt. I don’t know. I like the attention. Dispirit on stilts.


Should the sky build a bridge at the crevice of horizon

And in the umbra of my hue

I’d hatch the means to cross it

At risk of turning blue.

If the sky approached, full of vigor

Like the immediateness of fingers tracing naked spine

A weary haste unhindered

I’d wait on tailored suit of night to deem me heaven’s bride

When the sky curls in circular rapture…

and waters heighten discomposure

I would waltz sapphire to teal

Only then would matters reel