Yeah

Burn out my bad luck on the small things

Steal my money, scorch my food, Lose my rings

Moths can dine on my very best clothes

Split my lip split my hairs bleed my nose

Stoplights go red and my breaklights burn out

Break my dishes, sunglasses, and boughs

Burn out my bad luck on the small things

So maybe the big stuff will pass me up clean

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95 Black

Hello (love). I’m getting my life together this month. It’s the month and i fucking have to and I’m doing it. So fucking weak the last couple days tho it’s bullshit. Just want to sleep. Sleep and read and lose myself in silly little fantasies. Sometimes, not very often at all, but once in a rare while, reading will feel the way it felt for me as a kid, as a teen. A real escape, an obsession. It leaks colours and flavours and scents into my life. Cherry and something dark. I understand things about myself, but i also don’t. I simplify myself to myself because it’s easier, or at least i mostly think it is.  Yeah. I dunno. I don’t always know how to use my voice, or how to use it for good, or what good is. Every word is the string for a light and the spring for a trap.  Name things with caution, say “i love you” often.

Library

I get in spots where it’s so hard to move. It’s so hard to want to and so hard to do. I get into spots. I want that job, or really any of these semi decent jobs. I want naltrexone HCI / bupropion HCl. I want the brave streak to fix my body. I want the slick steel strength i feel in a scene to live inside me always. Party in a party. Keep my build me take me. I love you.

I’m not afraid of ghosts

I’ve never felt reluctant to leave a job before, or like I’d miss it. It’s weird. Every day that i have to go do a tour, it feels like the last fucking thing in the world i want to do. I dread it, I’m so over it, but there’s still something about it that i love. Something weird and small and magical about it. being a part of this bizarre, dysfunctional group, doing the most random job ever, it’s cool. It’s special. It’s an elite club and i could explain what it’s like all night, but if you haven’t done it you can’t really know. we know. We’re there together, and we know. It’s also an 11 year old girl walking up front with you, asking you questions and telling you in confidence that she thinks her room is haunted. It’s the look of wonder you see in her eyes and you fed that. You stacked the wood and stoked it. The world is still magical for her and you made it that way. I’m ready to be done, I’m ready for a new chapter, but i think i might miss that.

Sky

Maybe i am a house filled with mysterious rooms. Maybe I’m the answer to my hopes renewed. Maybe I’m the one the ghosts of the 1977 blackout will talk through. Time is thin line important and my demons shouldn’t make themselves excuses. No. The vase didn’t break itself. I shouldn’t let my demons be excuses. I shouldn’t let myself excuse. Read a boring book. Go to sleep. Don’t have anything but new fresh dreams

Char(ge)

Nightmares and nap-mares all in and over me. Things that break my heart, and myself just screaming until my voice gives out. It carries into the waking day. How can i ever feel… Like I’m enough? How can i make myself feel like I’m whole and complete and enough? Smoke, and the sparkling crackle of not quite dry things burning. Watching rows and rows of stubborn weeds bow and shrink before the flame. Shrink into nothing but ash. Good. Die. Victory in a battle I’ve fought for months. I need real work. I need real money. I don’t t want to lead tours anymore. Time to sleep. Dreams, please, be gentle with me.

Woodsound

Hahaha everything feels sad to me. My period surprised me and all the emotions I’ve been holding in check are all up on me. The main themes in Hamlet are madness, revenge, religion, and political instability. Fight me if you thing I’m wrong. Fight me if you think i have too many weeds in my front yard. I choose trial by combat and my weapon of choice is the force of my unbridled anger about the way the bourgeoisie exploits the proletariat. Maybe we should get married for the wedding gifts. Maybe i should live off loans and get a doctorate. Maybe love is that steel you find when your loved one needs it. Maybe it’ll be alright if i can just move past this. Yeah. I’ll tease and lead you with the promise of a goal and I’ll destroy and feed you to a spectre or a ghost, it’s good. The rooms of all my dreams are all filled up with bad mistakes, the ones i’d let go and the ones i would just make and make. Yeah.