Lilith's Monologue

“Well how do you know anyone really exist? It’s like dreams, like the ‘people’ you see in your sleep. In your head they’re real, I guess, since your mind creates your uncle John or that slutty nurse spanking you in whatever weird fetish you probably...

Astro Land

When the mere act of existing feels daunting and terrible is when I find myself most well. Whether it's the thrill of a challenge or love of the mayhem I'm not sure, but there are few times I'd felt more full of life than when I'm terribly oppressed...

Lieb or Lieben, Either Way I'm Yours

You know that love is a drug overdone and a cliche, which makes it difficult to be original when I try to explain that the world's gone grey. Dark, for some reason it's always a little cloudy, even when it's blue as hell. This could be just another...

Goodbyes Are Goodlies (aka I'll see you in your dreams)

I stood on the corner of Hanover and Exchange Place, watched Neri click down the block until she was just another dot freckling the city. It was almost 2am, not another soul for miles. Just the occasional drunk and couple strolling down the aisle. Too...

complet[e]

Weekends are a myth and every day is Monday. Love is a fools disease, the profit of the unwise. I'd given myself too often only to recover poorly sorted pieces, hardly mended things, for the next starry eyed bane to bright and hoard what sordid...

Hungover Once Overs (aka That Baby Ain't Mine)

I can put it on a prose or I can put it on you.   Either way, there's going to be hurting.    Still, I wished you'd stay a wile (sic) and let me fit between the seams you fall apart in, let me be the tree and awful you feel a constance....

Why OvercompliKate Things

You push to keep a distance and knit a cozy reverie of me, a thought to slip in absent mindedly through the hours of our absence. Its a strange way of saying I Miss You or How I Love You. Your doubt is an unfounded confidence in paranoia, the pebble...

Nice Hands

She was rich like a Charles Bukowski quote- copy pasted and overused. Life afforded her little originality as I constantly found her stuck in a common notion or a cliche, her chief concerns being weight or how ill suited her reflection in  mirror...

Cafune

There's little use crying over spilled ink and I won't hold vigil over the ghosts of yesterday. You've taught me that our time is short and we are quickly fading, so I've licked my wounds to limp steady at your side. I was dragged through the love and...