| stardust high on
stardust,
they float upwind
spaceward,
unhooked,
awake in life.
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i am the snowmaker
i made a snowflake
i spent days
it is yours
funnyshaped crystalbright
it makes you laugh
i think i might
melt straight into the white
cold nothing
turn it into something
but it will fall
in the wrong month
in the wrong city
on someone else's nose
and you will never know
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| golden hour
golden thrice
through the fall
and through my eyes
golden leaves
my golden mind
through a golden pantomine
holding on to
golden songs,
golden quiet
sweetly falls.
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| letting the world
do as it may,
letting these people
spit in my face
again and again,
being weak and submissive
is not a sign of self hatred
and punishment.
i have given myself to all the
awful people, sad people
to act out their own will
because they HAVE to.
i close my eyes to it;
i will not participate
in the cycle of pain.
i take it and take it,
and i never suffer.
in my head i know
that i LIVE
the life of an extraordinary
human being
and no matter how dull
and insulting,
life is unbelievably beautiful
and full
so full
above all else i value truth.
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| can't write. this city makes me dead. none of it is real. i won't even remember these few months.
hotography. (click me)
edit.
"So when I thnk of autumn, I think of somebody with hands who does not want me to die."
--The Bluest Eye
edit.
it's almost cold enough to burn something. i can smell it. |
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