"There is a tree in my backyard from which pus-filled boils hang - At night I hear creaks coming from my dresser - Torpor trapped beneath fish scales - In the middle of a cloud of expectations - the perfect synthetic Mate - I thought I could escape him but he was everywhere - there was always something unpleasant in the weeds - the racing of rabbits racing through my mind - the antichrist to her cheer section - if I can push myself through the undying light of every morning and the corrosive darkness of every night, then I can be here and do this - make a wish for yourself that she'll morph into instant dead dandelion - Rain connecting endings that nobody likes - nobody told me I would miss it so much - My eyes dominated by the vain desire to be young - the sound a grapefruit makes when pried apart - the objects so alive were still so far removed - but now spits out the seeds and core - dust is mostly made from skin cells..."
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| Keep Elevated by Sandra Feen |
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