About disastress

bringing creepy down to its knees

my ride or die

my ride or die let me down again, just as depeche mode feared.

 

 

Advertisements

salty

slithering sighs, heavy lies, lids slipping, falling for sleeping pill thrills, dreams are coming soon – creature features,

a swamp thing emerges, reaches for your hand, and, not but, you’re sinking in the sand, irrelevant, he thought you were someone else softer, retracted his offer, and now you must surrender and submerge slowly, swollen like dusk, long gone are the crepuscular rays, a bruised delight oozing into the ocean, into a world where we cannot breath, and the monster says fragile words to make you realize just how far we’ve been pried apart, you used a hatchet of cruelty, and we split like germs,

this luxurious pleasure, a velvet chaise lounge of possibilities, sits in a summer cornfield of sunlight, but you aren’t strong enough to juggle the juxtapositions as a sacrifice for such bliss, a sacred kiss, strips of moonlight through the wooden fence sluicing tears across your crying eyes, and by-the-bye, i’m on a rickety old swing gazing away, licking the rust off of my hands, tick-tocking, using my arms as a chalice for nostalgic burden, dropping some things along the way, like you,

he said: clean, so i cleaned.

hello black cat

they’ll be leaving soon, a voice whispered as secret
through silken hair, golden from summer, lips to ear

the shutter shudders
skin rises to meet something soft
wraps a shadow shawl around us, a bag over the head

this is when eyes open widest, the awe is spectacular, don’t you see?

she heard, where were you, did you get lost? you look like you could be lost
frighteningly searching for the perfect song, what did you say, i have to go

i found it for now, but that will change
my thoughts are spotted with the cancer of nostalgia
the sharpest edges and thickest skin have the most gooey core
you shouldn’t monkey around with that stuff, but i am a soul miner
(thank you matt johnson)

today’s not the day for me to salvage your fine pieces and polish them shiny

they’ll put you on the proper medicine, darling
and then you’ll be hidden safely in the confines of sanity

“Take all your medicine
It’s gonna make you well
You’ll have to run till it’s over
I’m sure you’ll be able to tell
You’ll know it’s over
For the rest of your life
You’re gonna be high
Come home
It’s something less than a holiday
When you come home
It’s something less than a holiday
They’ll be sneaking up behind you again
Talk to the doctor
He said you’re well for home
Take all your medicine
Be sure you’re never alone
You’ll know it’s over
For the rest of your life
You’re gonna be high…
Come home
It’s something less than a holiday
When you come home
It’s something less than a holiday
They’ll be sneaking up behind you again

Come home
It’s something less than a holiday
When you come home
It’s something less than a holiday
When you come home
It’s something less than a holiday
When you come home
It’s something less than a holiday
When you come home
It’s something less than a holiday
When you…”

hello snow

i pray to thee sensational that the snow would remain
my screen stays dim, my eyes dilate, the steam hangs heavy
optimism comes in swings, in between the heavy drapes of sadness
night clings to the last vestiges of those still lucky enough to be dreaming
there are no expectations here, and time’s cloak inches along surreptitiously
just for now, i think
the pendulum of here and there
hides me, us, from the world’s bully, perceptions of who we ought to be
and we, fearful, but calm, move delicately around obstacles
to keep standards from thinking we are alive

calligraphy letters arrive
proud puffs of beautiful poison
softly trickling down the horizon
i’m afraid i’ll blink too long, may miss
an elaborate curl, or a comforting comma
but i know, as it fades, so does the memory

oh well
oh well
oh well

i sent him an explanation one time
‘course, by some stroke of strange luck
he never saw it, though it was in his hand
i saw the way it turned into an unread accident
one day he may see it, and all meaning will be lost
it’s already becoming autumnal, falling from my heart

becoming foreign

that was then, this is now

“Every one of us is losing something precious to us. Lost opportunities, lost possibilities, feelings we can never get back again. That’s part of what it means to be alive.”
-Haruki Murakami
Kafka on the Shore

“If you remember me, then I don’t care if everyone else forgets.”
-Haruki Murakami

grandiose statement

i’m kidding.
i could start out with, it’s 2k17, and here’s the deal-

i’m going to:
get off facebook
get off instagram
quit reading rags
quit reading news

start taking diet pills
take up smoking cigarettes

live in the real
live in the now

seriously though, i do just want to be here and now.
can somebody grant me a miracle, give me a ticket?
because that is where i want to go until i die.

hello vivienne

o, silken shucks
lashes slice memory
sprinkled far too vast
tracing dreams to rivers
flooding a boulder’s crook
a soft shouldering entendre
draws eight on the foothills
words: i am not yours to own
and you scare me, you hear?

think about that:
you scare me

vivienne
a poet’s name
knows what i mean

we sigh through a sleepless night
too close to anxiety’s bonfire
as time frays the ribbons
of our choking pain
remembering the
stinging
embers
like nettles
one small simile
when we’re drowning
on a timid unsaid goodbye
floating as starry disguised
trust ink’s fine darkness shall
take care of the resting wrest

more or less, this post is a test