The moon was close. The stars were far. She had her time machine in her back pocket. So she could go back without being seen. So she could prove the doll wasn't naked, but later undressed. To sneak the poison into those needles. Steal the vaccine from the disease.
Don't try too hard she warned him. as the dress obscured her face. Blindness is a condition of wanting what we can't have.
Tell me the truth. That I don't matter. And never will. That you're more defective than empty beds can cure. Tell me lies. That I mattered. The friction of clean sheets on dirty skin. The cage door opening. All prisoners afraid to leave.
The moon gets too close sometimes. Especially when you're looking up. The lies will do. Melting snowmen. Time machines to argue with. As everything and nothing.
changes.
I thought you knew better than to trust. Broken levers. The selfish math of time machines consuming us.
Monday
8/11/2008 12:41:00 AM
Sad Labels:
alternate universes
,
friends
,
nefarious
You have a talent which far exceeds any other living poet alive today. Publish it.. bring a little more light into a lot of dark worlds. Lets not fuck around here, you have a gift. Use it.
that's a big statement. you exaggerate, but i appreciate your support.
publish. i get that every so often. seems a thankless endeavour. still, i wish i had the energy.
Jimmy's not exaggerating, AP. You aren't flowery and fake...trying to please another...your words are the evisceration and emancipation of your soul. I know the emptiness and desolation, the who-gives-a-fuck...there are at least two fellow souls sharing what you have to say. You are published here. Don't stop.
thanx man.
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