i want a dog in a baby carriage exactly like that one

call me mantis

silly penguins... being all proper

loving on these tattoos

i will always be haunted by the ones i've loved

my sights are set on different shores

the time is now

it's time to be open and honest and vulnerable and raw and unguarded.
i'm letting myself free fall and hoping that i land on my feet.

i'm more afraid of growing up than of anything else

love this poem

One Million Ways to Burn by Ursula Rucker


I look upon you
with eyes burnt from tears
sear the meat of my heart with
memories

of your hot/cold words
your dry ice words

sticking
stinging
singing

with vision blurred
I watch
our love go up in a frigid smoke
guess I got to close
I inhaled
I choked

slow burn, slow burn
slow burn, slow burn

slow burn, slow burn
slow burn, slow burn

Etched you name on my walls
with the fire in your touch
Our ardor once warmed like summer
soldered bodies
we swam
in simmering sweat

I
melting metal
softening
glowing fiery orange like the sun
bending

You
blacksmith
branding

At strangest times
I feel the heat of the iron
still

slow burn, slow burn
slow burn, slow burn

slow burn, slow burn
slow burn, slow burn

Like smoldering coals now
weaker
but able to burn
still

3rd degree
1st degree

This hurt turns angry
scalds
like freshly boiled tea water
spilled upon flesh
making skin bubble
then blister
later to heal
scarring
still

Etch my name on your wall with a caustic tongue
hope at strangest times you feel the heat
still

slow burn, slow burn
slow burn, slow burn

slow burn, slow burn
slow burn, slow burn

Shall we leave our love at the stake
within a fence of flames

sacrificed on an altar of discontent
sacrificed for no greater purpose
on an altar of self
for the purpose of self

Will the rains come
to douse or drown
Will we rebuild from the ember and ash

Or will nothing ever grow here
on this burnt earth
that was
us

slow burn, slow burn
slow burn, slow burn

slow burn, slow burn
slow burn, slow burn

Burn
from passion
or displeasure
Burn

slow burn

One million ways to burn
choose one
One million ways to burn
choose one

choose one
choose one
choose one
choose one

.
Hurry up!
Make haste!

i'd rescue you now, but i know that you'll drown

be patient with yourself and don't expect it all at once

people told me slow my roll. i'm yelling out Fuck That.

yo im trying to re-d.e.n.n.i.s. this chick

let me count the ways that i abhore you,
and you were never a good lay
and you were never a good friend
but, oh, oh, what else can i say,
i adore you

-Ani DiFranco

My hole, I'll get my hole, I'll get my hole
Get my hole, get my hole and I'll find out more.
It's a choo-choo train, a rocket launch
If we have a hormone race
I'm bound to finish first.

Can you see in the dark?
Can you see the look on your face?
When flashing white light's been turned off,
You don't know know who's in your bed.

It takes more than fucking someone you don't know to keep warm.
Did you really think that a fuck at half-speed you'll find your love in a hole?

You won't find love in a,
Won't find love in a hole.
It takes more than fucking someone to keep yourself warm.

I'm drunk, I'm drunk
And you're probably on pills
If we've both got the same diseases
It's irrelevant girl
And the room fills with steam
Oh, evaporates, disappears
My point of entry is the same way
That I leave

It takes more than fucking someone you don't know
to keep warm
Did you really think that a fuck at half-speed you'll find your love in a hole?

fooled again.

As for you, my galvanized friend,
you want a heart.

You don't know
how lucky you are
not to have one. Hearts
will never be practical until
they can be made unbreakable.



- The Wizard of Oz

very early in my life it was too late

wait for me waves..

i'll be out there again soon and it will be better than anything else

bloodbath

Bloodbath by Christian Drake

And it came in like the barking of dogs in your belly,
the lunatic dogs that bark every full moon on the dot.
The clock in you unwound, the little room collapsed,
and the blood trickled out in a thin red ribbon,
licking the white sheets.
They call it a period, but it’s really a run-on sentence
babbling on all week. It’s the definition of womanhood
reduced by repetition to the tedium of tampon commercials,
punchlines, and the day-long math test of cramps
shooting through you like swimmer’s stitches
while you’re in the middle of the river.
And I watch you fight to swim to the other side
of the bed, kicking, gasping hard between gulps of chamomile tea.
But when the blood is calm, it is beautiful
as a bone-handled knife. It dreams, and as it dreams
it drools like a baby. It’s the drip-drip of a faucet
as we go to sleep, it’s a bee beating itself against the glass.
It’s a presence, not like a ghost but like a memory
in your skin, changing the pitch and timbre
of your body to my ear as I pull my fingers across
your belly and you find my lips in the dark like a magnet
and I slip my fingers through your hair as gently as thoughts
and you say,
“Baby, not tonight. I’m on my period.”
And I say,

Baby, I will make love to you until we look like a war zone.
Give me the sweet murder of your body
until they string up crime scene tape across the bedroom,
because period sex is awesome.
I will love you like surgery and I will transplant your heart.
I will love you like a horror movie,
’cause it’s about to be a bloodbath in here.
Because I need a hot transfusion of your love, type A-positive
because you can’t B-negative when I’m giving you my O, O, O…
I want to surf your crimson wave,
and invite your Aunt Flow for a threesome.
I want to reverse your curse, because the Red Sox are in town.
I want to make this a “special time.”
I want to put my submarine in your Red Sea
and hunt for Red October, and do not hesitate
to ask me to go snorkeling down there.
Because if I’m going to order the finest steak,
I’m going to eat it rare.
Yeah, because I crave the taste of blood,
and I want your nerves raw like a bullet wound valentine.

And whether it’s hard or sweet, we’re going to leave
skid marks on the sheets
and handprints on the walls.
So throw that tampon in the air like a cotton Sputnik, just lob it,
’cause in the end, I want to be bloodier than John Wayne Bobbitt.
Your time of the month has perfect timing
because you open like the elevator doors in “The Shining.”
I like some ketchup when I’m dining,
but I want to taste copper like I’m dying.
So let the woman in you make a man out of me.
Let’s get unclean. Because this lovemaking is no less perfect
than the moon rising in you, and this lovemaking is the gospel music
made by the rhythm of flesh and blood and flesh and blood,
and this blood is the closest I will ever be to making love
to your insides, sailing through your veins and arteries.
This blood on my skin is the photograph I take
when I visit your heart.

people got a lotta nerve

the 6 foot goddess

I'm big
I suppose that's why my women always seem
small
but this 6 foot goddess
who deals in real estate
and art
and flies from Texas
to see me
and I fly to Texas
to see her
well, there's plenty of her to
grab hold of
and I grab hold of it
of her,
I yank her head back by the hair,
I'm real macho,
I suck on her upper lip
her cunt
her soul
I mount her and tell her,
"I'm going to shoot white hot
juice into you. I didn't fly all the
way to Galveston to play
chess."

later we lay locked like human vines
my left arm under her pillow
my right arm over her side
I grip both of her hands,
and my chest
belly
balls
cock
tangle into her
and through us
in the dark
pass rays
back and forth
back and forth
until I fall away
and we sleep.

she's wild
but kind
my 6 foot goddess
makes me laugh
the laughter of the mutilated
who still need
love,
and her blessed eyes
run deep into her head
like mountain springs
far in
and
cool and good.
she has saved me
from everything that is
not here.

-Charles Bukowski

home. let me come home.

home is wherever i'm with you

my system's in mint condition

Love, with very young people, is a heartless business. We drink at that age from thirst, or to get drunk; it is only later in life that we occupy ourselves with the individuality of our wine.
- Isak Dinesen