. On my way home on the bus the sound of birds were emerging from my body everybody was looking at me I looked out the windows It didn’t hurt .
. Jezebel is a runaway chariot a devil and an angel sit on her shoulders who is the angel? the Angel is learning the ways of how the Devil sleeps .
Perhaps you’re the wilderness that waits within me Perhaps an other mystery, I open beneath you. writing / PAUL TRAN
The days fade through our slow parting; I wanted more than I was given, & found in betrayal a churning courage. writing / TOBY MARTINEZ DE LAS RIVAS
Wildness in my psychic space Proof I come from other place Running Rivulets like worms in water writing / emm ill ee
I have before and after. I am my self, entirely and only. My outside and inside are continuous. I am muscle, organ, fluid, bone. I am monumental. You are the only one who sees me. writing / LESLEY HARRISON
I couldn’t answer you. Still. My lips moved at you silently. They offered words you never heard. writing / ELENA MINOR
Another thing to try and suffocate, to forget, to stash far away. Please, only come back with sweet, minimal, unneeded memories. Can I remember this happy?
are you really helping anyone by exposing yourself? now they know everything about you now nothing is a shock
I keep running into your goddamn face. It’s not even you. I don’t think anybody is coming. I’m not waiting