Tag Archives: writing
Ferocity
When I bound, leap, lift, fly– –for a moment, escaping the hold Mother Earth has on my leather boots– –I imagine myself an angel, even as I come down, blade at the ready, to end your life, and take what … Continue reading
Desperately Wanting
Occasionally I think about you, the way you had this mouth that seemed to open up far too wide, and I am strangely, perversely enthralled by how much you held on to me, how long I felt you worm your … Continue reading
Ripped
I’m thinking of tearing you down; you’re little more than paper poster covering up old and dirty walls. I’m thinking of the white, hot, chewing sound of bookflesh when it’s pulled from its binding. I’m thinking of destroying you in … Continue reading
Didn’t
Sometimes it doesn’t happen. Damned if you do — I would say more but then again I wouldn’t have to speak if I could just rip open my head and let it all spill out in colorful pictures. It wouldn’t … Continue reading
Didn't
Sometimes it doesn’t happen. Damned if you do — I would say more but then again I wouldn’t have to speak if I could just rip open my head and let it all spill out in colorful pictures. It wouldn’t … Continue reading