she died from suffocation choking on stuffed pain it was only after she learned to infuse living into each day   it gave her insight She saw truth in small kindnesses seeing inside flesh she returned with softened eyes coldness seemed unreasonable   she opened…

Beady eyed girl in linen skirt, oh saint! Your father will beat you for using the bicycle. I’ll never tell. Tins of ribbon candy are your salvation. An orange for your kingdom. An orange for you to release those frogs and give me the rubber…

Physicists claim the universe is shaped like a soccer ball, and we are inside, with holograms coating the boundaries,  projecting all possible angles of view, individual and complete like Indra’s net. Physicists claim that black holes extrude through the walls of space-time like scattered spikes…

The beginning and the end The beginning Raw darkness pervaded elsewhere Light hidden in its womb Matter deposited as spirit Dispersed throughout And the universe woke up to life   The end Contradictions annihilated life And matter dissipated as primordial spirits Returning to the folds…

👹👿👿👿👿👿👿                                😱😱😫😫😫 👹                👿👿👿👿👿👿                        😱😱😫😫😫 👹 👿👿👿👿👿👿           …

I think we were alive before life itself existed. All-embracing as Nothing minute as Everything. This black breadth is the blanket of which all lies and truth hide under. No perception mattered to see, to hear, to smell, to taste, to touch and all other…

I am done. I think this marathon has one. I accomplished what I set out to do 12 hours of poetry In that I have succeeded Soon, I will be fast asleep Maybe i will wake early and play catch up during that little bit…

I have nervously awaited the POP and sharp pain— ice pick through my temple?— the shrieking, shrieking, shrieking of a something that cannot be said, the dizziness, the euphoria of weightlessness, the wild and the wild and the wild of my curls grasping at latex…

the beginning grew, a scar opening from a time before a mumble tasting the fresh dark, growing into a song flew through time, seeding it with stars Hungry, the stars fight, cannibalizing each other until they are so bright and full they become suns, the…

There’s no chance to miss the rain. It’s a sheet that falters every fifth day and transforms into hard pellets that feel like a bruise you can’t return. The region has more rain water than the means by which to clean it, said the anchors…