Jun. 12th, 2005

foxtongue: (misery)
There was a star, and it burned me. Scorching my tongue, words bubbled hot inside of me. I looked out a window to something that wasn't real. Internal and effigy, strange days have come upon these. I am frail.

There are many things I want to say, to write down and so excise them from my flesh into some sort of reality. "I love her, but I've told her, you fuck any of my friends, and it's over." I want to have a moment where I might find the disrespect to name my creatures, to throw down gauntlets of other people's pain and simply write everything that's been told to me. "He hasn't worn the ring for two days." This last piece of pulse time has been ridiculous, harsh in unexpected ways, and jabbing holes in my every piece of personality.

I left this city and came back changed.

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foxtongue

April 2012

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