i make myself sick…
with two fingers and a tear,
that drippy thing looking back at me,
a reflection of that that’s been to make a fallen thing decompose,
sending back the poison to the cradle.
i’ve seen the fickle things and sang and been on my knees,
the squinting eyes burning holes in the flesh,
the naked flesh bumpy
and fiery and drooling and spitting.
i make myself sick and it feels like my pulse is pulsing
good and hard.
a red itchy eye
needs that drippy drippy thing.
COMING UP: PHOTOS
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LATELY IM:
--> reading my favourite book, "a complicated kindness", by canadian author miriam toews.
--> always sticking my head out of my window and people watching on my busy city street.
--> constantly walking everywhere, refusing public transit in advocacy of ma legs and smiling at strangers.
--> forever questioning what people mean when they say "that's just part of life".
- My Tweets
GLOWER POWER 