various notes on the subject of confession
you upstart thing
i love you
lie licker, old dog
you lay down by the fire for so long
but got up again. I missed you
while you slept. I brushed your hair.
one ghost in the greek yogurt good heron
i was with you then
at the end of the universe i will piss in a cup
i will kiss the last dust
i will hold you very tightly
say to you that you worked hard
and that i love you.
i will tend to the temple. where
are you going, babylon
to the arid girl paradise Yes —to the root of it
where the moss grows soft
i am waiting for you
like a river
this is our last time being alive
i want to lie down by the fire again
i walk in your imprint always
you know me better than anyone, robot
i know you best of all
when I stumble
i see you in the glory of heaven
i want to lie down upon the moss forever
which is my way of saying
i want to die
im not really sorry for bad poems now or ever but i do feel strange, i have written more + better stuff than this in the past couple months i just cant bear to call anything finished
this one is going up because ive given up on it
Reading this again, I'm reminded of something Valery said: "A work is never truly completed, but abandoned; and this abandonment, of the book to the fire or to the public, whether due to weariness or to a need to deliver it for publication, is a sort of accident, comparable to the letting-go of an idea that has become so tiring or annoying that one has lost all interest in it."
Your work is always appreciated, in any case, however it gets here.
this reminds me a bit of tori amos' writing, i can't really pinpoint why, maybe just the feel of it. and it works as a letter to oneself or someone else, both are very real. i think it's so beautiful!