i feel like there's someone inside of me trying to scratch their way out but i remain sediment.

//let me out

please//

they are clawing and kicking and banging on my bones. my skin crawls with the aftershock.

//help me

i want out//

i want to help them. rip my skin off and be reborn with the energy and will to get the fuck out of here.

//please

save me//

free will. their tears chill my skeleton, but i do nothing. i am a hypocrite. lazy. insufficient.

//i am dying

listen to me//

i remain still and leave my passion suffering inside my body, encapsulated in a resting cocoon, never to breathe or see the light of the moon.

im in the wake of my grassy high. i woke to my friends running through lawn sprinklers and laughing in the distance. i realized i saw people who genuinely loved life. as i, far from their world, was the only one who could hear my scripted laugh because i cant fathom a life without swallowing synthetic joy. a life without deep existential talks with the sunset in the window glass. what's a life without self destruction? in that moment, i knew. i woke and i was spacing out into the bermuda grass while sweat and water dripped from my nose.

...

>>resume

you cannot smell me or taste me or see me

nor can you touch me

but i can touch you

i come in many different forms

you can make me in different forms

but no one can decide

which kind of me is the best

people buy me, sell me, and share me

even steal me

but i am priceless

what am i?

"The ink is running towards the page, its chasing off the days look back at both feet and that winding knee. I missed your skin when you were east, you clicked your heels and wished for me. Through playful lips made of yarn, that fragile capricorn unravelled words like moths upon old scarves. I know the worlds a broken bone.

But melt your headaches call it home."

-Ryan Ross

i am the liquid pumping through your veins

the pastel warmth on your cheeks

the rose in your garden that smells of dirt but the sweet, organic kind

the smeared lipstick on your pillow from last night

the letter slipped under your door sealed with wax

the tiny cross on the nurse's hat as she covers your mouth with air

the second's hand on a clock seeming to tick the slowest

the leaves drifting in the autumn wind

the stone on your finger

the warning labels you ignore

the summer berries

i am blood. vitality. sex. passion.

i was walking at midnight. i snuck out to smell the humid air and catch my breath. and i walked past you and a group of friends. you called me over and offered a cigarette. i took it. you asked if i was okay and that you remembered me from somewheres. i asked if your name was sadie. you smiled and told me how much i'd grown. we were neighbors and used to play together. we sat in awe and eventually were lovers for a summer. what luck, finding you there...