The End

the breath of breeze rustling the leaves 3k short and a gun to the head, A sunset never looked so red. staring out a window, waiting to meet god but god don’t live anywhere so i forget what happened there. identities lost, but never gone running never lasts long: out of breath in Colorado, a … Read moreThe End

A Hardplatz

out my window, a murder of machines flocking to pick the carcass of my Platz, Once so stoic, so patient as it caressed Junkies under the bridge and echoed the smashing of empty wine bottles across the train tracks. But she will be beautiful again, even if it is the glamour of having no soul. … Read moreA Hardplatz

flurries

there are blades of grassthat grow under the snow;how I wish I was them.these flakes of snow fallingfrom the heavens that sent youare bigger than I’ve ever been.Is it love that makes me tiny,where a deep sigh is a hurricaneand heavy footsteps an earthquake?

Soapbox Artist: collecting art & literature of the worst kind