Thursday, September 29, 2011

by addams

the afternoon sun filtered faintly through the trees and resonated under my feet. watching the lace patterns slip into cracks in the concrete was when i heard it: rippling over the land, the October wind. it whispered in a language i couldn't decipher and proceeded to spin spiderwebs in my hair.

yes, please
"Those who crafted me, be they gods or demons, crafted this mind that shapes my resistance to their schemes. Surely they were wise enough, at the wheel where I was thrown, to anticipate future resistance in the heart they were abuilding."

-Tom Robbins, Jitterbug Perfume

Sunday, September 25, 2011

Saturday, September 17, 2011

cold nestled between my toes where the socks cant get to it

i love the sound of metal on metal mama's spoon makes when she strikes it against the rim of rambo's feeding bowl. so does rambo.

Something Blue

I am in this place where I can pick out the individual grains of dirt and count the crooked branches along the road to self discovery. I draw them into my visual vocabulary and I brim with happiness and wonder. Nameless things assemble before my eyes. I look at them in my mind for hours, turn them over, give them motion. I study the shine on every angle and also the darkness on the undersides where mystery makes its hiding place. Will this last? I feel the start of something that is the product of everything my life has been up to this point and everything that will in time whip my windshield to be picked up and gathered along the edges of my glass. But things will never be the same, I feel that too. There is a loss welling inside me. It lies dormant someplace dark where I can't catch its contours without squinting, which makes my eyes hurt so I don't do it and am never able to yank the feeling out from the shadows to bring it to the light. Yet still it grows with each thought I feed its existence, and once it expands it can never be insignificant again.

Saturday, September 10, 2011


I sense a shift on the horizon.
When the tears dry, and lashes stick like spider legs to the invisible crust formed over your cheeks--in that space between hysteria and tranquility, you heal.

Saturday, September 3, 2011

Velvety Darkness

Every time my head fills in the hollow cast into my pillow by nightly travels, it's like a curtain gets cut loose. Lids they creep shut, pushing out light until a rich darkness penetrated only by the colors of my thoughts is all that remains. I like goth because in my mind it's more even than a mood or a feeling. It's texture. A tapestry of textures that flicker from deep velvet to slippery satin. The words that build the mood they too have colors, deep reds and burgundy and midnight blue, and if you could touch them they would have these brilliant textures that vibrate under your fingertips and wash over your knuckles and the surrounding skin.

Friday, September 2, 2011


image source: fuck yeah goth

Goodbye and Hello

There are pictures in the distance and there are words. Giant hats that droop upward and mugs made to fit neatly inside palms. Purple lips and headdresses dripping gold into black eyes. Eyes that blink away the wind that bloodies the cheeks. There is a familiar melody to its battle cry but what makes you surrender is the scent of Snegurochka that it rescues from the recesses of your mind.