Anonymous asked: You are a better writer when you are angry and frustrated.
Looking Here, At You & I
You like me so much that it’s clear you don’t know me very well. Don’t get me wrong; I’m sure there’s plenty of girls out there, in the world, who’d like to know a blue-haired guy who writes poetry laden with sexual imagery. A guy who likes to act like he’d like to fuck everything in the room, ‘cause he knows he doesn’t have to. I can see...
Silence Girl Sits With Her Drink & Me
Silence Girl glares at me over three broken glasses full of whisky and beer. Broken glass and booze; We call that drink bartenders’ blood, where we’re from. Silence Girl smokes purple cigarette; she buys ‘em in plain white, and then she fucks ‘em up with a magical-marker, when nobody’s watching. Silence Girl burns purple cigarettes against her lips, and exhales...
Words She Doesn't Use With Me
She wrote herself into my story, with bright hair and scarcely visible scars. She came to me, not crawling, yet still somehow on hands and knees. She lied to me, a mouthful of my blood just behind her teeth. She opened me up, just by opening her mouth up wide against me; her lips against my belly, my belly falling open like a cupboard door. My heart opens for her like the damn thing was...
Given As Gifts
My mother sent me eight joints for Xmas. I smoked the first alone, alone with the letter she’d sent me. I smoked the second with my lover. The third I smoked with friends, whom I’d invited over for nachos. The fourth I smoked alone again, quiet in a room by myself. The fifth we smoked on Christmas morning, when we first got up. The sixth we smoked on Christmas evening, when...
Me + Her
She thinks she gets me, but she’s just got the box I came in.
Carve Me Up, Lay Me Down
She carved my heart out of wood. She put fingernails of sharpened metal to a living tree, and she carved out a heart that I could wear inside of myself. She came hot ashes into my hands. She looked in my eyes, and I felt her arrive, heard her say my name as it happened. Then there was a smouldering between my fingers, then there was a smear of hot black-and-white, the leavings of a cigarette or...
I can’t see that girl without starting to break down a little. She’s so fucking bruised and beautiful. Nobody really likes her; she’s too weird for that. She doesn’t really have any friends. She gets picked on a lot. She sits by herself and if you do try to talk to her, she usually just mumbles some stuff you can’t understand, and then she runs off to flick away at...
My Crush On You Is Crushing Me
My crushes are so obvious, so out in the open. There’s so little that’s at all subtle about me and what I do. I just fall in love with beautiful things, and then there’s a little less of me where there was before, because I’m always giving bits of myself away to things I enjoy. Yeah, I send bits of my brain out like bacteria, weaving their ways into the minds of the...
Monkey The Crow, And The Old Iron God
My pet crow is named Monkey, and she spends her days haunting an old iron god that patrols the edges of the city. There’s an old god, cast out of aged iron, and it walks around the outer perimeter of the city. It has eyes that can see forever, and a body that will not rust in the rain. It’s a great eternal being, once capable of great cruelties and kindnesses. Now it is a very old...
Starting On Her Lips
She wanted to destroy me, she wanted to burn me alive, So she invited me into her bed. She took me between smouldering sheets. She wrapped me in moist passion and combustable urges. She kisses me like I’m made of ashes, Like I’m a smudge of darkness on her lips. She licks me up, and chokes me down.
Cigarette ashes on my apple; I eat it anyway.
Where You Weren't.
I miss you like I never met you. I miss you like I was aiming for somebody different the entire time. She’s out there where I’m not, she’s looking in on me, back on me, she’s remembering the times we spent back together, back when I was XX years old and she was still blond or she’d bleached to pink or she’d gone back to black or god only knows. I miss you...
Swords And Claws And Monstrous Things
So, for a while, we tried our hands at being Moster Slayers. We sharpened our swords, and we crafted fine heads onto the shafts of our arrows. We strung our bows tight enough to hum when they were plucked. And then we went out into the city. We went into the park, and under the streets, and across the rooftops of skyscrapers. We wore armour under classy hipster T-shirts and other forms of...
Unidentified To Me
She came to me like an alien ship, All strange lights and unknown smells, And hovering up just above some lonely place. She went to touch me like she was an alien space-craft hovering over some lonely place. Her fingertips never quite made their way to me, but I knew I was there. I knew I wasn’t alone in the room, and neither was she. She’s never alone when I’ve got her on my...
Broken Little Doll Girl
I built my lover, my perfect robot girl, with parts I found in the alley. She has striped socks, and mix-matched toes. Polka-dotted panties and skin the colour of burnt chocolate, in some places. Skin the colour of golden coins in others, skin the colours of sunshine and honey and carmel-coated coffee-beans. She steals glances with stolen eyes; they’re blue and grey and filled with...
Failing For Her
My failed dreams make her smile. She loves to watch me try to fly; she loves to watch me fall. She’d be just as happy to see me make it, To see me split the clouds in twain with my motion and speed. But she only ever sees me fall.
Hard To Swallow, Harder To Avoid
She wants me to write to her more than I want to be read by her. She wants more words than I can put into any kind of an order. Oh, I don’t know. I just wish she wanted something that involved me. I just wish she felt a compulsion that involved me. I’d love to have her sacrifice something just to get a sense of what I’m doing. I want so badly for her to express some desire. ...
Out In The Water
Water all over her naked body; she’s look for me, but I’m not there. I’m in another room, looking for something else. I’m hiding under the bed, next to the box of sex toys, behind the towels used for wiping off sweaty bodies. She’s got a big, bulky, plastic vibrator. It takes c-cell batteries and grumbles like an old car. She’s got handcuffs and bondage tape...
So Scared Of Stuff
We weren’t held back by fear, we were held aloft by it. Fear forced us up, into the sky, off the ground, and ever onwards. Fear forced us to never look back. Fear compelled us, drove us, insisted that we go further and be more. She was also so scared of her family, so scared of winding up back there again. She stitched together great bloody wings from sheet metal, and she kissed the...
Practitioners of Occultistry
We got tired of working real jobs, so we became psychics instead. Now don’t feel too bad. We’re only ripping off the wealthy and the stupid. They’ve got it coming, and they can afford as much as we take. Overfed housewives throwing us five hundred bucks an hour to tell them the secrets of the cosmos. Lucid dreaming. Spoon-bending. Mind over matter. Channeling the dead or...
Free To Run
When I took on the job of leading the orphaned children of the City Which Was So Vast It Had No Name, I became entirely what the role required. I wore a thin mask of moulded plastic on my face, to obscure my identity, or rather, to create a new, more visibly prominent identity. I stripped off my shoes and learned to walk barefoot across broken glass and needles with nothing to see by aside from...
Anonymous asked: What're your tattoos?
Anonymous asked: What do you work as that means you have to wear a suit?
Anonymous asked: do you find that people are more open and can relate to you more with wildly colored hair?
Anonymous asked: Your hair. It's blue.
Little Bug, Little Bug
I’m your little bug. I’m the viral infection in your system. I’m in your cells, mass-producing myself; Highjacking everything that makes you what you are. I’m hidden in the cracks of your body. You can hear my voice when you cough, you can smell me when you sneeze. You can sense me, hidden within the aching of your head. I’m between your ears, right in behind your...
dyingfiction asked: I can't remember how I ended up here but then again that is usually how I find interesting shit so hello.
We're Not So Close
She’s on a different molecular frequency than I’m on. When we brush up, we don’t touch skins, we just feel burning. We just pass the sensation of burning between our fingertips. She’s not made of matter like I am. I’m not flowing electrons at the same speed that she is. My atomic structure is anti-her. Her kinetic flow is almost invisible, intangible, to me. She...
Closer And Closer To The Bone
She wanted me to restrain her. I wanted her to do something to hold my fucking interest. She wanted to be tied down, beaten up, choked hard and left bleeding on the floor. I wanted to hold up her end of a fucking conversation, I wanted her to look at me like I was a human being and not just an erection with a taste for other people’s pains. She wanted me to control her, to reign her in,...
He Tried To Inspire Me; To Violence
He tried to impress me with his big burly muscles, so I pulled out my knife and carved a rorschach image across his physique. Something interpretative but at the same time, uniquely personal. I left him to think about things; I left him with a big piece of glass six inches deep, right between the shoulder blades. I left him where I found him; in the middle of a battle with the rest of the world,...
Too Brave For Open Mouthed Fears
She’s scared of infinity. Me, I’m just scared of everything. “I’m scared of everything that isn’t you,” she says, loading her gun with pure bule bolt of fire. “I’m scared of my own face in the mirror, and what might be hidden underneath it.” I lick lips. I look at hers, and I lick my own. I taste like old road dirt and bad memories. She...