losttoperfection

O locust spring, heavenly spring In magic just is magic lust. Expensing plots, dispensing wroughts The trees that words are poured. O burlesque house, rejoice from mouth To morring love or mooring Dove. Displacing homes, erasing loans The skies that once have soared.

"For fuck's sake Caroline, you know I didn't sleep with him," I tried to explain as I had been doing so since I woke up yesterday morning. "Don't give me that, Charles.  You know just as well as I do that it was all over your face, black and white." The thought hadn't occurred to me yet, but maybe she was right.  I guess it didn't matter anymore.  No matter what I said or tried to do, she was leaving and she was leaving tomorrow.   Her life was packed…along with half of mine: the brown boxes, the dresses, the make-up, the shoes, the pictures, the everything; and not that the dresses were mine, it's just that it was our life. I didn't know

Subject: A/CF sunrise and a turntable a glass of milk and broken fish - porcelain pass out on the stairs it was as well be this way pass out anywhere it might as well be anyway Setting: M/AN he was a cardboard box last week eaten by the coffee he once was - ceramic (insert) RISING ACTION make way on the train it might as well be headin' this way make way anywhere it might as well be headin' anyway (insert) CLIMAX Plot: I/N breath in helium - lighter than a cigarette toss/turn - another drunk counts as lost (insert) FALLING ACTION here's the pacific ocean and i'm heading west (talk) RESOLUTION ocean = o'clean

there was the poem about a girl AND SHE HATED YOU. her name was misleading. AND she left. she went to the store. to find everything she loved. her heart, her mind, her lost boyfriend ALL in a bottle of YOU. every cliche, every mistake was profoud enough to say I FUCKED UP AGAIN. so she drank her life down to her soul and found out she NEVER NEEDED YOU. fuck off.

he began to speak in music and paint away his thoughts. brushes on his canvas drinks into his mind. rain unto the sun like freshly fallen snow. he trades his recipes for dreams. he fades his colored eyes to see all shades of gray. like a ribbon on his broken finger. trees fall to the ground and walls will be torn down. he runs away to sleep. love, love, love. faith into the sky. haste and distance quiet is the night sung. he practiced in the sky smoke rising from his tires. she said, "you are not all that alone." red lights falling and the mountains iced he said, "i am going to die tonight." he waited til the morn

There he stood, six feet tall, watching the water flow off his head and onto his hand.  The water bounced and jumped and fell to the floor, but his eyes stayed on his hand.  His hand intrigued him and he wanted to know more about it.  He questioned himself as to why his hand did the things it did. Suddenly snapping back to reality, he quickly turned off the water, grabbed for his towel, and began drying himself off in one habitual motion.  He ran out of the bathroom and into his small room; consisting of nothing more than a bed, and an old trunk used as what would be a coffee table, if he hadn't put it deep in the corner of the shadowy room.

like a fish on a stringer or a hangman's noose i flip, i flop and slowly die. a lone tombstone in a sea or a garden salad i toss, i turn and slowly fall. like a cloud in the sky or a dead end street i rise, i fall and slowly end. a piece of pie in the trash or a purfumed neck i smell, i hide and slowly rot.

as the faces begin to change to shapeless blurs. as their bodies become lost in a sea of design. written and loved, practiced not preached. her ideal husband became her lust. her face become faint and tears became salt. she gave up her life, for this room. she gave up weather, she gave up the skies. written and loved, fallen and forgotten. green tea mixed with red, her blood. as she lays in her chair at the lonely coffe shop. her wrists bandaged, her face stale. her eyes cut out, and placed in her hand. for the day when she feels him, sees him. she will give him her hand, and give him her faith.

forgive me hold my penny up for all to see like a falling star raining money in mexico thinner than paper your cuts on my skin have began to bleed the thread and a needle is all you need to sow my dreams stitches like rainclouds cover my wounded face lye in my throat and a penny in my eye

I had a dream And tattooed on my arm Was every love and conformation In which I existed. On my forehead was a crucifix With a barcode on my neck But in the mirror The room was empty. I had a dream And placed in every room Was a picture of love And what love is. The frame was broken And the glass but shattered Yet the still-frame showed The room is not empty. I had a dream And the inside of my heart Was filled with scars and blood Mended and dried. My soul was painted white And the barcode removed For in Heaven The room is full.