I can't put my finger on it.

The people who say certain other people shouldn't write, are fucking dumb-as-shit A Holes.

Topic change.

Next, you'll be mowing down whole tribes, but first you hunt the community.
That's original and you can eat your own proud shit over it, all fucking day.

Topic change.

You'll roll over and play dead. And I will revel in that fantasy with you.

Am I angry? Is that poetry? Is it news? Is it, I'm sick to fucking death of being the cause of every inch of pain around me for miles on end? Bet on it... and what would you bet on it, by the way?

You want to drive me to a reaction?

I would die in torture before throwing out a fraction of the bile you did yesterday in the name of loving him, but I'm not you.

And you sure as fuck ain't me, Sugar.

Cry over that. Its all you'll get.

Make your way.

Sometimes you have to be beaten within an inch of your life, to appreciate the days when you just get your face kicked in.

gulls

It takes forever for the sun to set.

There are no street lamps. No stars. No moon. Just blackness. In the distance I can see a red light and a green light at the entrance to the harbor set out for navigation. I catch glimmers off of the water when a cloud ends, until the one right behind it takes that glimmer away.

It would be peaceful were it not for the sounds of a riot taking place out in the blackness. Hundreds of birds from different families are talking to each other. Fighting over resources, fighting for dominance, fighting for a mate, fighting with their babies… Fighting. Their intensity is so strong, that I wonder if they couldn't just kill me if I crashed their tribal council this evening. If I just walked up the beach, with my pupils fully dilated and me still stumbling through the ebony, then out into the frigid sea-- right into the thick of them, what would they do to me? What would I allow? Would I have any control at all?

I heard wolves the other night. No chance of seeing them because it was so dark. A wolf howl seems to come from no one direction and limits itself to no harmony. It goes right through you and you feel it as much as you hear it. Every howl has a visual story accompanying it. The sound immediately arrests you and you want to hear more. The hungry choir stabs at your illuminated shadow in the doorway and you can make out nothing before you. So beautiful. So eerie.

When I turn to go back inside, I am like a child again. Chilled when I turn my back, I close the door quickly--as the heart races. It seems an eternity with the Unknown screaming rapidly toward my defiance, and I leave the night to work its potent magic without me, before the sun comes to radiate resolutions and exchange pains.

AAOx4

I bought a house on an Aleutian Island, on the first island if heading south down the chain from the mainland. I bought that motherfucking house.

Midnight and Dusk along with Tonight, crash delivered to me, a pitch black entry way. I peered out into the heaviest of ebonies..

I war intensely for keeping the glow within me going steady but still I find myself rapidly growing dim.

Drowning out the thud of an exposed and defeated tell-tale heart... I sacrificed my turn at Oblivian, under that blackness and I reluctantly headed out into that chill, because I was not prepared to be grateful if I had to wait around another 8 million eons and play cozy.

Voices coming from the cave behind me were swallowed into the fog as I listened and wished them each an eternal well.

I delicately fingered my way along that poorly illuminated razor wire into the safety of night. I didn't care who had sights or illumination on me. I do constantly imagine that I am in your salvage yard, and that's all I am willing to give on it right now.

Rust was my favorite color and navy blue.

I like the way light could always break through corrosion, and how the blues appear to be never overtaken unless by their own.

There is no love and no shade as volatile.

Now, every color and every silence drags behind it a Universal army of
Embers from you.

Embers of you.

You.