In rage, I imagine the suffocation of a bull, in clear plastic. Layers, and layers of clear plastic. It can fight. It can call. But it’s strength will be it’s death. It will die. It’s how I feel, and the image I rewind and pause like an old movie, when I feel this way. Pounding … More Dead Meat
Oh. Push me off the curb. Into the cars. Look me in the eye, pretend to cry, and then walk away. Oh. Let go of my hand, I need it to hold on to the words I fell for. The ones that fell from your lips while you lied. Oh. Undo the motion sickness that … More Oh.
I listened to her play the cello, and she breathed sharply with each pause, even if only half a second. Her breathing was a part of the beauty. Like it was written into the original score.. penciled in, at precise moments. Not only so she would not forget to breathe, but so that the deep … More Breathing in Strings