ONEclickCLOSER
I feel like we’ve reached a time where there will be a transition in the view of suicide. Any day I wait for the news to broadcast across the world that a young person with no apparent physical illness wishes to leave medically assisted. Even if it doesn’t make it to standard news it will creep through the alleyways of social media.
Space is not so far, the ocean depths not so deep. Death is the final frontier…that is our truest fate.
Vex my reference to memory.
I can’t recall all my sources and in turn they might not have intended the nudge. But here I am, a pillar crowned in thought formed from the poking and prodding of life. All but holding myself up anymore and looking for more than doubt as a ware. It is tiresome.
Boogidity lobster ravioli spherification
Searing splits from the sandy mirror⌉⌈
As a step, a look and a truth the future sweeps———
I’ll leave it there and behind me….the whispers of the curio. You should leave it too, you can⇔
Beside you a bloom, inside you a spring. No comfort in a pot, a bottle, a fear. These days shame the silver edge clouds, have you seen it? Have you heard of it? I don’t know why we act as if our temples are only in religion. Curse the day we needed metaphors and put silver before foodΨ∇
It was bound to happen….
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“I’ve always had the thought that I could write something great” He said
“Yea man it’s good, it’s good”
They both lit up another cigarette enjoying the poignant high from the heroin. The settled rush when shooting up always made them want to talk, just like it always put a different smell in his nose. They could talk about anything and it would be gold but still something about these talks were pure and that might as well have been the smell of an angel.
You do believe in God right?! Well then you know things hardly manifest out of nothing. The universe didn’t, so why would any conversation? It was a momentary heaven on earth for these weary, young sinners and regardless of the fuel burning in the pit of motivation, there was a point somewhere.
*BANG*
The lighter he was holding fell to the ground with a pitched hit. As he picked it up he scrolled through his phone again. Always scrolling, scrolling.
“I tell you what…”
Tilt me on natural and ferry to land
Breeze beneath and trees shutter by
Final rest and breath again
Many a river in my mind, few the lakes
Currents through season and field
Like in sun a bed of grass
Scatter the branches and rattle leaves
*Influenced by the song North Swallow by Barn Swallow*
Never sloppy on influence I take one grain of sand make a million hourglasses, put them on my face and look out to the Nile, look out to the sea, down to the rocks
How long, how long?
Fevers amongst fairies and the seasons test my mortality. Simple pollen a tragedy hardly when compared to the toxic clean of labor. Smell the new, smell the hours dissipate. Fuck I’m going to die. But I can’t lie, that has at times seen like it was a sweet render of truth. Something has attacked me, broken down my guards and poked a bit at my inner truth. Not too bad if progression is the result but I feel an affront, a treachery.
Settled on my side but move to look up
Parry the stars with a sense of earthly touch
Common traits and the paper has similar stains
Can I escape back and will it be enough?
It’s a swirl of feelings and actions like there was a glass jar of memories and visions swimming around and then someone just poked a hole in it and they mixed and came out.
Fold a cube over the sphere and see it trickle down lines of simple argyle. My smile is pattern of mine
Words like a shape, love like a ghost
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