The scattered dust of moments. Longing for the rest of mass graves. Sleeping in right-angles and bell-curves amongst the tangle of strangers. Curdling water and blood knots draining into the afterlife. Tens of thousands of failures painted in the sunset. Loss trickling downwards through ivory towers, and congealing in the trenches. Unremarkable euphorias diluted by excess. Slowly sprinting toward sleep. And dreaming of skin sewn askew with fishing line, and scars opened by unbaited hooks. In the backdrop, the soft sibilance of regret. Asphyxiated by a trickle of yellow pills and imposter-syndrome induced-irrelevance.
3:41 p.m. - 2023-08-08
Recent entries:
Gnashing of Lungs - 2023-09-01
Injection of Sweeteners - 2023-08-25
Clockwise Plummeting - 2023-08-25
Little Skulls and Icons - 2023-08-18
Lore Can Us - 2023-08-18
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