The Perks OF Being A Vapor

We Breathe In The Birds

The first experiment of surrealist automatisms

We Breathe In The Birds

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100 THINGS THAT WONT REALLY MATTER BUT DESPERATELY NEED TO BE SAID

 if only i could take all the landscapes

and freeze them into paintings

to hang up on on the backs of my eyelids

100 THINGS THAT WONT REALLY MATTER BUT DESPERATELY NEED TO BE SAID

There Are No Such Thing As Soliloquies

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This is not a poem.

This is not a story.

This is a non-fiction horror.

Well. Here I Am. Here You Are. Please Go Now.

The Wallpaper Peeled Itself From The Underbrush

23-old-victorian-blue

peel, peel, peel, peel, peel

The Wallpeper Peeled Itself From The Underbrush

I Painted The Door Orange Because My Paintbrush Said So

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the door was never meant to be black

or maybe it was

but we’ll never know under all these layers of orange

I PAINTED THE DOOR ORANGE BECAUSE MY PAINTBRUSH SAID SO

Organic Lung

everything is breathing heavily around me 

and its making me sick.

Organic Lung

Pure

You were a vapor

That wrapped its arms around me

Please stop choking me

((Pure))

(engulfing prose)

Dont Follow Me Into The Galleries

I wrote this short story over Monet’s “Impression, Sunrise,”

and then painted over it in black.

Dont Follow Me Into The Galleries

Shut

I was sitting in the midst of my own isolation today and something got me thinking,

maybe we’re like flowers.

SHUT. ((A POEM))