Fucking short title spaceDocuments reveal astronaut romance & Pilot crashes into ex-in-law's houseFucking short title space
I understand, what it’s like to be in love, It’s new, like those devices you use, Still vacuum sealed, tied in bubble wrap. You want to throw it onto your workbench And tear the coverings off. Play with it constantly, for the couple Months before you completely lose interest. Like a child, screaming, violent - The little toy car that used to be in your hand Now imbedded half way through the TV - When someone else touches your doll.
Duende - not a title but styleBreaths come like swallowing marbles. Your face caught, choking my vision. It's reenacting the moment after the green traced rainbow arc almost touching the ceiling before the grape bounces off my tongue and rattles down the Discovery Toy. Then twisting, sidelong - pinched between jugular and carotid. You're a blurred image, our faces just inches away. Your eyes - pools drippingDuende - not a title but style
Contrasting auburn hair like seaweed tentacles wrapped around my neck. A tourniquet, binding me to the bed, forcing me to endure your waterboarding tears.
Not Going Homenot going homeNot Going Home
I was going to start, Have you ever had a day? Have you ever had a day, where you don’t want to go home? But I know you have Because I have Because I do and I am, right now. Because it seems like everyday is one of those. And it’s not that home is so bad or where you are isn’t. But it means it’s the end. You’ve got no more chances no more choices It’s game over. Now. It’s that 8am morning when you’ve been up and moving and working but you didn’t really. It’s been 16 hours and it feels
Uh, shit...
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