Syringe I watch the plunger sink under your thumb, pushing the substance through the syringe and into your vein. The needle has bitten into your I AM CELEBRITY tattoo. I remember watching when you got that tattoo. I remember you telling me it was for the part of you that wanted to compete and win; to be famous; to be a movie star; that wanted to be loved, that wanted to be everybodys hero; that wanted to be known, that wanted to suffer while every one watched and did nothing to save you; the part of you that craved drama, tragedy, and crisis. There are track marks all over that tattoo, and I remember watching when you got all of those, too.More Like This
With the needle still in your arm you look me in the eyes and say, I may get high like nobodys business, but honestly, I dont do drugs.
Maybe its the dragon I chased earlier lying to me instead of you. It must be those sharp teeth b
anecdotal (red terraces)1.More Like This
as i sat picking fruits from chocolate cherry trees,
grey mice circling my toes, i wondered
if there could be a way to find the unfound.
when the moon looked like the sun last night, casting white
over fields of dust, my eyes felt like chrysanthemums
and my fingers were rolled-up rose petals, grasping.
if this fawn could speak silver-tongued to me from beneath
the black feet of my crashed car,
it would teach me something about looking towards the light,
or at least how to see the unseen.