There is a great bit of the people who scratch their eyes out in their early 20’s and pour margaritas down into their throats; bypassing their stubborn shut mouths.
We’re as close as the mill grinding wheat now – a crushing production of friction.
“Living in a post-fact era doesn’t mean you don’t tell the truth anymore, it means that the facts alone are not enough.”
“You can come to terms with dying, but I feel that a lot of the time I have to come to terms with living, and taking advantage of the fact that I am alive.”
As I dance through straw and dirt.
I know he will not hurt
me, he always stops.
I feel demons, man-sin,
Sitting, watching me
Atop cracked telephone poles.