minusblindfold

Run down over two blocks these kids almost grown race under two mo  re two much to Condone they Reach for eachother those kids mostly grown can capture their phere mones most best when alone gardened Flowers carefully spared and sprinkled fi ne each kid nearly grown eats Aborted buds with no mind these Kids now grown make way and take path for a new group of kids to implement their Deaths

Maybe it's best to keep hidden When the seeker is tired of seeking Find corners in my childhood memories Old habits die hard, they say Open doors Invitations To a broken hall of subjective failures Even if they lost their keys or The postman lost his way However boring However hopeless However we end up Doors are open

Remember when we used to drink the iced tea we thought we would get rich selling? Or the pastel colors of a restless Easter morning before mass? Or when we used to crawl because we afraid and young and unable? Remember when we used to run down this block before they needed speed limit signs? And when we screamed and screamed because we could? \We are killing eachother and killing ourselves, And at the same time wondering why we still can only crawl. Rememeber when we used to drink whatever it took to let us feel free? Or when we lied about where we really wanted to be? We are killing eachother and killing ourselves, And these memori

honey do list: -isolated -nails down hands -arms push for nectar -toil toil -kill -boarded up closet -choose life -calcium supplements -acquires dyslexia -tense up -brainless -drives over bridge -put on hold -allusion to sarcasm -burnt dreams thanks

it is unussually extra "nothing-to-do-with-the-weather" cold tonight. maybe we are just hot packs containing cold chemicals that retire after ten minutes. do we end with zero? i dont know. time will tell i suppose and yet we may just have to find out on our own. where is that time? he was meant to meet us here at noon. he is late he is late we were late well my friend, its now a question of latitude. ive learned, if anything, that good things never turn out great.

stop the circle, leave right and wrong alone. you and me go back; come back. stop the circle, leave me at peace; you and me are over; erased. this is finished. reasons why, six days from sunday is the best of my life. and i was afraid of being second to waves, correlations to my life. haha. we wear guilt on our backs.

what was once 'to know the name,' has become 'to be within.' smooth taste but bumpy ride, and i dont care. symbolism never quite captured it, did it? kodak moments... friends drown in pools of what was coming to them. batteries die and shudders shake. and i can see the light in the night, but symbolism never captured it, did it? blame me, both the sender and messenger; you will never quite understand, because symbolism never captured it. try my hardest, not to break the chance.

in blood and ink, the saline bitter sinks into my tongue. my reflex, i think, made this train bond with this gun. and that's just it. forward and reverse always arrive fashionably late; nonspacial existence. Mark Twain would agree but then change his name and plead not guilty. genitive fault. but words don't come to mind: we'd all like to head back home; and we'd all like to turn the wheel. we'd all love to Burn the wheel. and that's just it: words don't come to mind.

who could i expect it from to return a necessity when it was needed most? when these types of things are taken for granted, they can soon be gone. and have i fallen into that? have i lost the most important? the depth of my existence is not showing up on the charts. and sometimes i am unsure of the sincerity of even my own words. but i can assure you, that i am not special. who is? i only see pictures of happiness, and through a window, that story cannot be properly told. maybe its true. maybe no one is special.

the forest just lost a friend. the kind of loss photosynthesis boasts when it donates your precious air. but today is that new day. they reunited. rush into things, let blurs guide you. no need for eyes today. its all right here, in the coronaries. today is the day the forest regained its friend. the greens and yellows. the world no longer can hold its credible opinion. because thats just what opinion is. opinionated. the world is no entity. in the coronaries.