10.14.24quiet breathing in a dark room. there's an angel in my bed, and i would give the world to her. my time on this earth will far outweigh hers, but the time i spend with her will be the fondest memories i will hold.
10.13.24stasis. the air stays stagnant, i cannot seem to move. i fear i may frighten you. not that i'd run, not that i'd do anything but hold your face in my hands. but only if you'd let me. but you wouldn't let me.
10.12.24my signal is sent, but the connection is missed. a lone satellite searching for anything that will understand it's mechanical heart. it doesn't beat the same, but you'd never know if you couldn't hear.
10.11.24he wants to be something dangerous. he wants to see the worlds that only exist when people are at their worst. that's when people are most interesting, he says. he says, from the dark of a bedroom he's never left. a room no one else has ever entered.
10.10.24if i could just hold you tighter, i could make this right. if our flesh melded together, i could control the things you can't seem to do right. i could make it all work out the way it's supposed to. i am fate's servant. i'm just trying to get you to play your part correctly.
10.09.24i made the least art when i was the happiest. but art is all i've ever lived for. i haven't voluntarily gone outside in weeks. is this burnout or just the way my story is meant to play out. where am i within my own narrative.
10.08.24it would be easier to say it wasn't my hands at your throat. it wasn't me, i didn't mean to, i didn't want to. well, i didn't. i didn't mean to, i didn't want to, but i did. the more i feel suffocated, the more i want to retaliate. my hands are at your throat because there isn't ait flowing through mine. it's not an excuse, i wish i could stop it.
10.07.24peel the skin from my lips, smear the blood across my face. an imitation of a fight, like i've ever actually fought for something. he'll drown in obscurity and his art will lie a monument in the bottom of a forgotten well.
10.06.24is this how i'm destined to live? is time a cruel cycle where i only get those little moments, those fragments where it feels so right before its all wrong again? i'm different than i was the last time, but how can i prove that when my actions are all the same? when i'm following the path already tread because nothing else feels okay. this doesn't feel okay, either, but its all i've known.
10.05.24i want to daydream again. about anything. the sun, the moon, pretty faces with pretty voices. something holding me gently. something unfamiliar.
10.04.24there's a soft glow from the doorway. it isn't a sign of life, it isn't a call to action. it's more like a nightlight. more like the darkness wishing me a good night's sleep.
10.03.24nothing seems to move too fast, the water holds me still. i need a moment of silence, for the world has made me ill.
10.02.24something subtle beads across the wounds like blood. it isn't hard to see, but it will keep you captivated for years to come. do not fall into the trap of beauty on the surface, it is not real. your flesh creates so much more, your flesh creates the maggots' meal.
10.01.24metal fangs gnash against concrete. glowing eyes remind us of just how small we are. it raises its head, we bow before it. it cries like it is hungry, i offer up my flesh.
09.30.24it's there, grab it. stick your fingers into it. a geode that's dull on the outside, but when it's cracked open, find only viscera pouring out. find the thing's heart. find it struggling to beat on the ground. consume it raw.
09.29.24i believe i could still love you. when the sun hits the earth, the earth does not scream. she rejoices in the light he's brought her. this isn't unusual, right? it's the way of the world. to love that which has hurt you. to cycle through the night, dark purple and blue, then come back to the same face in the morning.
09.28.24there's always this rot when i think of you, sitting deep in my stomach, in a dark place i can't quite reach. but i can see it, feel it. the day i understand it will be the day i my flesh melts off my bones. the day everyone will see the reality of what's inside me.
09.27.24these patterns splay across the animal like a pattern knitted into a blanket. the universe is calling for your flesh, waiting for you to hear it. you are the animal, you are the one knitting, you are the blanket. you are the universe. pick up.
09.26.24i've been dripping blood into my own mouth. i keep thinking this performance will amount to something greater. it's easier not to miss you when i'm tending to my wounds. i can barely hear your heartbeat over my own heresy. you told me you were doing better, and i swore never to believe in the sinner. but when my own sin is misjudgement, how can i expect forgiveness. how do i repent.
09.25.24the fruit of labor becomes the love. to consume, to drink, to feel full. it reminds me of your eyes, and every eye i have yet to meet.
09.24.24the little dancer in the windowsill has waited a very long time for someone to tell him the effort he's put into his craft is worth it; noticeable. this has put him at peace, at least for the moment.
09.23.24a liquid fractal, dancing behind eyes that cannot see. it swirls, pulls you in, drowns you. if i were able to keep my eyes closed forever, maybe they'd never find me in this quiet prison.
09.22.24scratching into the walls, not to escape, but to prove i was here. a mark of humanity, trying to claw its way out of obscurity. i leave dirt around the edges just to remind myself the space has been used.
09.21.24sitting in the same spot for days, the chair is making me ache. the machine keeps time with my heart, the sound echoing in this empty space. my legs are numb and beautiful. i'd sit here forever if you left your head leaning into my thigh. i'd never die if you kept crying right here beside me.
09.20.24the machine beats like a heart should, and it breathes like my own lungs. if i fed these wires into my veins, i could call it symbiosis. if it can speak like me, i'd let it bleed out alongside me.
09.19.24i just can't seem to get past you. i've seen souls far more impressive, but i've never gotten to hold one so elusive. when she rises in the morning, i'll bow before the sunlight. but she is an infatuation, dear. the moon is my lover.
09.18.24these legs are pillars of god. a statue of man, reaching for light. these stone limbs are heavy. as he reaches, the world tilts beneath him. his fragile skin crumbles, crashes to the heat below. the warmth rolls over him, merciless as it drags him under.
09.17.24dissonance. not a complete disconnect. just miscommunication. we both played keys on the same piano, just struck the wrong chords at the wrong time. this does not render the instrument insufficient. we'll keep playing tomorrow.