A Tear From My Drunken Eye
A Tear From My Drunken Eye
Van Gogh’s 14 Shots

Roses are red
Violets are purple
Whiskey makes me dead
Rum makes me burple

all the World’s a Stage—
  the Globe; a Page

t/orn
      frayed

                    s ca t t erd

stained.

i
 dipped  
          my feet in freedom
                         and have been
                            running ever since

run running,
        become becoming,

ru(i)n.

    atoms
  cr u  m
     b l  
    i
       n

              g 

man on the street
                              corner—
                                           every
                                           day.

a n t s
              e v e r y w h e r e

     step/ smoosh/ stomp/ crunch/

              i kiss my knuckles—
                 keep you on (the souls of)
                 my shoes.

everybody
dying—
                            step/ smoosh/ stomp/ stop/

every
body.

aspergerhamburgerhamhamburglar:

and when i close
  my mouth we drown
        in yesterday’s
        blood filled shadow— 

the candles drip/ cold.
in the mornings i cough
up red dreams,

   it used to be my favorite color,
   i used to be your favorite sunrise. 

today i experienced déjà vu of having déjà vu of having déjà vu

i sneeze
glitter,

   celebrate
   my sickness—
         decorate
      death. 

first name.
last name.

    i am human
                      (being)

#0781933275.

   i breathe 
   balloons,
     i breathe,
              i breathe,
                                 i breathe,
                                                                 i  

                                                                                          pop!

You're awesome and an amazing person!

hahaaah a blog that srsly just compliments ppl? literally? literally. you are like the human form of a happy meal. ba da ba ba baa i’m lovin’ it. 

While gazing at myself from yourself, I was beautiful.
Dejan Stojanovic, The Shape (via fables-of-the-reconstruction)

the moon has left splinters in my side,
i’ve been sleeping on sheets
that smell like addiction—
heaven/ our gateway
drug.

  my blood tosses & turns,
  life/ restless. death/ breath-
  less

      and less and less, 
      my eyes lick the dark
             corners of the sky.

i cut my cheek
on a ray of sunshine—

       it looks like a smile 
                       (in the right light)

and maybe i thought your eyes
were my neon exit sign,

             maybe we’re just blind,
                                                          maybe i’ve been
                                                          on the wrong 
                                                          side of the street
                                                          this whole time.