Tan lines and unheralded screams.
Sticks and stones in to pizza dough.
Cold shoulders and colder hearts.
Sanity unstable, unattainable end table.
Sandy socks and dusty shirt.
Gilded eye sockets.
When the wind blows through my empty chest and freezes the bones around, when the west is lost and the world goes under, the trees uprooted, its unburied parts burning and the rain stops coming around. We will all be brought before the judgement and a mirror will be placed in front to see our face. There will be no magic or trickery of light, just the purity of white and the frailness of a naked human body left to squirm under a self-administered autopsy.
4 comments:
Unattainable end table?
Honestly, I never know what to say but I like your stuff.
You know, it's right over there but you're in the middle of the couch and there isn't a coffee table in front of you. It's frustrating, where do I put my beer? Somewhere matt won't knock it over, hopefully.
Anyway, thanks man.
I thoroughly enjoyed that explaination.
Sorry, I also thoroughly enjoyed reading this post. I especially love the bottom part. It's just vivid, and vaguely reminds me of the imagery in the lyrics of "Rocky Spine" by the Great Lake Swimmers. If you haven't heard it yet, give it a listen and tell me what you think. I think it's beautiful, like this.
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